The Brainy Saga
by Nftnat
Summary: An introspective chapter, where we find out what made Miriam what she is. It's more intense than it sounds. Chapter 24.
1. Prologue: 1 & 1/2 years ago

It's me again. I know I said yesterday I wouldn't be starting on this until next week, but I had some time while waiting for stuff to load, & this thing just wrote itself.  
For future reference, based on information in Grandpa's Sister I deduced that most of the kids were born around 1989, which means they're in 4th grade by 1998, kind of. I'd say the '98-'99 school year; just my opinion, of course. And it takes off from this coming spring. According to my version of things Arnold will turn 13 the first Saturday of summer vacation; Helga will turn 13 the week after. This story will unfold over the course of events I see happening this coming summer, & subsequent stories will be a bit farther into the future. I hope I didn't just overexplain; I have a tendency to do that.  
Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this; please r & r whether you do or not. Thank you.  
  
Oh yeah, Hey Arnold! is created & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee- Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. I'm not sure who or what has the rights to the poem "A Visit From St. Nicholas", but I do know it was first published in the Troy Sentinel in 1823, & that it was included in the anthology The New York Book of Poems in 1837, which is when Clement Clarke Moore finally admitted authorship. shrugs  
  
And so begins my Hey Arnold! epic.  
  
It had started midway through the previous year, just before Winter Break (although some of us still call it Christmas Break). On this particular day a familiar face --- very familiar to one student --- once again passed through PS118, Mr. Simmons' class to be specific. And that student was nervous but hiding it, both of which were old hat to said student.  
"Class, please, listening ears? Okkay, as you can see our school psychologist (making quote marks with his fingers again) Dr. Bliss has once again decided to visit our class to observe us. Please, just go on with what you were doing as if she wasn't here."  
This time Helga had no sotto voce reply. She was worried about what Dr. Bliss would say or do, despite reassuring smiles from the good doctor.  
And this time, although Arnold noticed that Helga wasn't picking on him as much, he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as it were. He just silently counted his blessings.  
  
The last class before lunch was Literature. At the time the class was studying 19th Century American poetry. Whitman, Poe, Longfellow, Dickinson (Helga's favorite) --- all well represented.  
As it was the last week before break things were a bit loose, & Simmons asked the class if anyone had any specific works from the period that they would like read. A hand went up from the front of the class. As in in front of the students.  
"Dr. Bliss?"  
"Yes, Mr. Simmons. I realize it is highly irregular for the school psychologist to contribute to the class in this way, but I have a specific work in mind. I find it appropriate that this class is studying American literature from the 1800s, & at this time of the year I have in mind a poem written in 1822 by a literature professor at Columbia University..."  
"I think I know what you have in mind, Dr. Bliss. A certain seasonal poem from Clement Clarke Moore?"  
Dr. Bliss nodded. After scanning the books for a minute, Mr. Simmons selected one, & turned it to the appropriate page. Then he re-seated himself & read A Visit From St. Nicholas.  
  
"'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house..."  
  
The class settled into the comfort of the familiar poem, with one exception.  
What does she have in mind? thought Helga. I know she won't try to reveal anything, but what if she slips up? She's only human. Why did she suggest that mushy Christmas poem anyway? And so on.  
After a few minutes Dr. Bliss coughed. A small cough, but it was enough to focus Helga's attention on her. Then Mr. Simmons read:  
  
"A wink of his eye & a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread."  
  
Which Dr. Bliss acted out to the letter, silently. Helga took note & relaxed for the first time that day, message received.  
Not two minutes later, Arnold received his 'first spitball of the day', a few hours late. It soon had company. Arnold sighed, his respite from being picked on having passed. Helga sighed too, in a different way.  
  
After class, the halls were in their typical chaotic state; students hurrying from one place or to another; in this case, everyone was hurrying to lunch.  
A certain scene transpired which would have been familiar to those who notice such things, which for some reason that escapes all reason turned out to be a fraction of one percent of the student population.  
Helga bumping into Arnold. Helga chewing out Arnold. Arnold going on his way. Helga muttering numerous unflattering things about Arnold. "And yet...", along with what ensued, said to a locket. Then, the heavy breathing behind her which always accompanied Brainy in such situations.  
Watching all of this, although well out of sight of Helga, was Dr. Bliss. This was the reason she had met this remarkable young lady in the first place. It was time to find out once & for all if she had done Helga any good. She would not be disappointed.  
"Brainy, why do you do this? I mean, every time I want to be alone, there you are, with your heavy breathing & your weird way of saying nothing that means anything, what's your deal?!?" He said nothing, just looked a bit sheepish – for him – and waited for what he apparently knew what was going to happen. But she surprised him.  
"Look, I'm not going to hit you; just leave me alone, okkay? Please?"  
And with that Helga resumed her course toward the cafeteria.  
Dr. Bliss smiled, but that expression soon faded as she watched what happened next.  
During her scolding of Brainy, Helga had been careful not to touch him. Now that she had left him, with no human contact, he looked uncertain, even uncomfortable. He started to sweat, then to hyperventilate. Before he could go into spasms, he hit himself in the face! Hard enough to break his glasses. Then he fell, rendered unconscious by his own hand.  
"Oh, my!" was heard from Dr. Bliss' mouth by those who were passing her at the time.  
Parts of what happened afterward remain privileged information, but if anyone had bothered to pay attention they would have noticed that for some time afterward, at certain times of the week, when the students of P.S. 118 gathered, Brainy was not among them.  
This is what happened one & a half years ago. Brainy has been keeping his weekly appointments faithfully ever since, & everything that happened from here on could be traced directly to the events of that day in December. Because of that, everything was about to change.  
  
For reviewing my fic When Patty Met Cupcake, I'd like to thank Jess, Hobbit at Heart (the former Sparrow Patil), Cheryl, & especially one of my favorite ff.n authors, Starry Nights. If this keeps up I might have to stop listing the reviewers individually.  
Guys & gals, I might need help. I'm working on the next part as we speak & am finding myself severely deficient in some areas which I deem critical to the telling of a good HA! fic. Describing what they're wearing for instance, or making up poetry like Helga does, I just dunno. But I am going to continue this, regardless.  
Anyway, it goes without saying that I want y'all to read & review; maybe beta read, I dunno. Anyone wants to contact me by e-mail, I'm nftnataol.com On IM I'm also Nftnat. Pretty much everywhere I go on the net I'm Nftnat. Thanks; hope to hear from y'all via reviews or other ways. And with that I say good night. 


	2. The Eve of the Change

Here's part 2 of my Brainy saga. I think it & the title & summary are pretty much self-explanatory.  
  
Thanks for reviewing, yeah.  
Thanks again, Starry Nights.  
And rocko, the reason I arrived at the timeline I did is as I said because of the Grandpa's Sister episode. Phil & Mitzi hadn't spoken for 70 years, 71, since November 13 1927. So I figure it takes place in '98. shrugs  
Anyway, I welcome more reviews; that goes without saying but I say it anyway.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created and / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh (what is that anyway? CB's company?), and / or Nickelodeon; which in turn is owned by Viacom.  
  
It was a typical day, late spring of P.S.118's school year. By now our favorite class was mostly 12, & finishing the sixth grade.  
On this particular day, one of the class was missing: one Helga G. Pataki. Her absence was keenly felt by the rest of the class, with differing reactions.  
  
"Class, before we begin, I have a note from Helga's... well, I'm not sure who it's from, but it seems that Helga won't be able to be here today due to personal reasons. Could I have a volunteer to take her homework to her after school?"  
"I'll do it, Mr. Simmons."  
Of course, Phoebe would volunteer. Her best friend's absence was cause for concern on her part. Not so elsewhere in the class.  
"Enjoying the vacation, Arnold?" whispered Gerald to his best friend.  
  
"What are you talking about? We're still in school." Arnold responded.  
"Without Helga Pataki, and that's almost as good as a vacation."  
"Whatever you say, Gerald."  
Arnold noticed that Phoebe was a bit uneasy, whether from the absence of her best friend or from the unkind words about the aforesaid best friend, he was not certain.  
"Um, Phoebe, do you know why Helga's not here?"  
Phoebe was quick to respond. "Well, I surmise from what she has told me that it has to do with her sister Olga's arrival today."  
"Oh", Arnold thought he understood. "She's taking the day off so she can be there when Olga gets in, right?"  
"Not exactly," a quietly frustrated Phoebe mumbled.  
"I'm ever so certain Olga will be there today, because I've received word from the Big Sis Little Sis organization that I should go to the Pataki residence to meet her tonight." was Lila's contribution to the conversation. "In fact, Phoebe, I'm oh so sure I could give Helga her homework if you want me to."  
"Uh, no thanks, Lila. I really need to see Helga myself. Best friends and all."  
"Oh, of course."  
  
But now the class turned their attention to the front. Mr. Simmons was a great teacher & one of the nicest people they knew, but his patience had its limits; and over the years (this would be their third with him; don't ask me how) they had found --- through trial & error --- where those limits were.  
As the day progressed, Arnold found himself almost missing the usual spitball barrage, followed by wondering when Dr. Bliss would show up again.  
  
I must need help, missing Helga's abuse he thought.  
  
Fast forward to 30 seconds before final bell.  
"Okkay class, remember tomorrow we'll be watching a film and I have something very special in mind for us to do based on it. I'm sure all of you will like it."  
  
RRRRRRIIIIINNNNGGG!!!!!  
  
And the daily avalanche of students issued out the front door of P.S.118. The bus came, & everyone got on it. As usual, Arnold & Gerald were in the same seat.  
"So Arnold. Saturday, the boarding house roof, your birthday, party of the year, am I leaving anything out?"  
"I suppose not, Gerald."  
"Hey, no kidding buddy, this will be the party of the year. Everyone's going to be there; it was the only topic of conversation I heard all day. It's going to be bigger than your geek party, & you know how big that was."  
"Please, don't remind me." Rhonda, overhearing, moaned with the memory.  
"I don't know if it will be that big of a deal, Gerald."  
"Are you kidding, Arnold? After all you've done for everyone? Try to find someone you know who you haven't helped! Take me: you got me through problems with Timberly AND Jamie O. Not to mention that little bicycle problem." Gerald added the last sentence under his breath.  
"Willikers," added Stinky from the next seat, "I reckon if it weren't for you, Arnold, I wouldn't be here on account of I'd still be pinin' away over Helga or depressed over my being a failure on account of I wouldn't have been encouraged to try my hand at farming & listenin' to my crazy prophetic dreams. Or I might have gotten a stake through the heart on account of Sid would have stabbed me on account of him thinkin' I was a vampire."  
"Boy howdy, don't remind me of that." put in Sid. "I might still be holed up in my room scared of germs, or so far into Big Gino's organization I'd never be able to get out."  
"I guess you helped me with my weight, & with Cupcake, & with my bar mitzvah." was Harold's contribution to the conversation, before adding "There's gonna be cake, right?"  
"Yes, Harold," Arnold sighed. "There's going to be cake. And before you ask, Stinky, there will be some lemon pudding too."  
"Well, thanks Arnold. Gawrsh, I sure do love lemon puddin', why I reckon it's my fa-vo-rite puddin'."  
"We know, Stinky, we know." came a chorus of everyone in earshot.  
"There's also going to be pumpkin pie, and mince pie, and cranberry sauce, and candied sweet potatoes, as well as mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and turkey with all the trimmings." Arnold continued.  
"Well, now I'm confused," muttered Stinky as he scratched his head. "I could have sworn up and down on a stack of phone books that that's what people have for Thanksgiving."  
"It is, Stinky." said Arnold. "Just like Grandma celebrates Fourth of July on Thanksgiving, she celebrates Thanksgiving on my birthday."  
"Man!" said Gerald. "So when does she celebrate your birthday, Labor Day?"  
Arnold just looked at his best friend.  
"You're kidding."  
More silence.  
"Okkay, so you're not kidding."  
"It's not so bad, Gerald. Everyone else knows what holiday it really is. We'll have a regular birthday party with some Thanksgiving touches; it's just a matter of humoring her."  
"Man, sometimes I wonder about your grandma."  
"I don't. But she'll be sane when she has to be. Other than that it will just be your normal run-of-the-mill party of the year."  
"Whatever you say, Arnold. Whatever you say."  
  
Just then Gerald noticed Phoebe, in the seat she usually shared with Helga. But with Helga out today she had the seat to herself; by now the other kids were used to the seats they usually sat in & no one was especially inclined to take someone else's usual spot.  
As Gerald continued to look at Phoebe, he fell into uncharacteristic silence, turning things over in his mind.  
With the onset of puberty comes a phenomenon known as noticing the opposite sex. Oh, he'd had a crush on her for some years, & she on him, but lately he had really started to notice her. He would have asked her out on a date by now, but every time he saw her she was always with Helga. But not now. Hmm.  
He decided to act on it. Excusing himself from the seat he shared with Arnold, he lurched back in the aisle, finally flopping down in Helga's usual seat, next to Phoebe.  
"Hey, Phoebe, are you doing anything this afternoon?"  
"Well, other than taking Helga's homework to her, no. Why, what did you have in mind, Gerald?"  
"Well, I'm feeling a bit hungry. I was thinking maybe we could split a banana at Slaussen's?" His way of having fun with the language as a means of suggesting banana splits.  
Phoebe considered. "I suppose I could eat a little something, although I can't spare any more than an hour. Helga usually waits until the evening to do her homework anyway."  
Gerald smiled.  
So did Phoebe.  
And the bus rolls on.  
  
Meanwhile, in a downtown office, someone is talking. We don't see him; we just hear him & see things from his point of view.  
"I've decided to do it."  
"Are you sure this is what you want?" a woman's voice asked.  
"It's not about what I want. This is something that must be done. The happiness of too many people depend on it. And maybe I can finally make peace with my own feelings for her."  
"She might have feelings for you; have you considered that?"  
"She doesn't. She's indifferent at best; she doesn't know I exist unless I announce myself. Anyway, I've already sent out the notes. They should be getting them this evening. At her house; isn't that ironic?"  
"You knew they were going to be there, both of them?"  
"Earlier this week I found out. Put that together with Simmons' next assignment, and it's a sign. I have to do this, now."  
"You've been going through the class assignments before they're handed out again?  
"I know we've talked about it --- trespassing, breaking and entering, not to mention the possibility of cheating --- but if I hadn't done that this time I wouldn't even know about this assignment, and who knows when another such opportunity will come up."  
A pause.  
"And I know that doesn't excuse it. This will be the last time, I promise." 'This time' referring to tonight the person thought.  
"Good; I'm glad to hear that."  
Another pause.  
"Well, our time for this week is up. Same time next week?"  
"Have I ever missed yet?"  
"Never."  
"Until next week, then."  
"Goodbye."  
"Goodbye, & thank you, doc."  
  
I know it's a cliffhanger, but the next part's coming soon. Maybe I'll get more reviews this way. I almost have the next part ready to go; just have to do a little research into certain Pataki eps. You'll see. So, as always, please r&r. And I'm still Nftnat. 


	3. Putting the Pieces In Place

Well, here's the next part of the Brainy Saga. I appreciate the reviews I've been getting so far; I guess a cliffhanger works. Thanks, jodylovesanimals, Jess, Hoobitatheart, and the smile. Houkanno Yuuhou, I didn't know that, but I've since found out more about Henry Livingston. And Starry Nights, I thank you for your reviews; they mean a lot to me. I realize things are going a bit slow, but I've been researching what the Patakis say when Olga's at home, the Big Sis episode in particular. Hey, I do try to keep people in character as much as I can. It should pick up now, as I know exactly what I want to happen. As usual, please read and review.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned in turn by Viacom (I never said I was creative with disclaimers, did I?)  
  
It's now evening, almost time for supper at the Pataki house. Helga was in her room, "sick", but the voices of the other members of the family could be heard from outside:  
"Surprise!"  
"Welcome home, honey!"  
"Mummy! Daddy! And where's my baby sister?"  
"The girl?"  
"Ohhhh, um, she's sick with something."  
"OH BOO HOOOOO!"  
"Eh, she'll bounce back; she's a Pataki!"  
"Well, then, is my little sis here?"  
"Um, Lolly? No, she's not here yet."  
And so forth.  
  
A few minutes later, from opposite directions, two young ladies approach the Pataki brownstone.  
One of the ladies --- the one wearing glasses --- would have been there sooner, but her date ran later that she'd anticipated. She's still wiping off ice cream from around her mouth.  
The one with the pigtails is carrying a box.  
Neither one is focusing on where they are going or what is in front of her. Which explains the collision.  
"Oof!"  
"Lila?"  
"Phoebe?"  
"What are you... oh, that's right. You're meeting Olga."  
"Yes, I am ever so certain that I am. As certain as I am that you're a bit late in getting Helga's homework to her."  
"Yes, well, I got held up elsewhere."  
"Oh. Here, let me help you up." By this time Lila had recovered from being knocked to the ground, and was reaching out a hand for Phoebe, who responded in kind and soon found her footing.  
"Thank you. Oh, can't forget this." As she said this, Phoebe reached down for Helga's homework, thankful that there was no wind at the time. Then she noticed the box at Lila's feet. "What's that, if I may ask?"  
Lila had forgotten about the box, and once she was reminded of it her face clouded with worry. "Oh, I, I don't know. I only know that it came to me from Big Sis Little Sis, and that I was to bring it here with me and Olga and I were to open it together." She picked it up. "I do hope it wasn't damaged."  
Phoebe's hands reached out for it. "May I?" Lila handed it over to Phoebe, who held it to her ear & shook it. "Hmm, doesn't sound like anything is broken. If this came in the mail I would surmise that BSLS made sure to include sufficient packaging material to guard against just the sort of unfortunate incident we have just encountered."  
"I hope so, Phoebe."  
  
Finally the two of them turned & walked toward the Pataki front door.  
  
"After you, Phoebe?"  
"You're expected. I'm not."  
"Well, if you insist." knock knock  
The door opens. "Little sis?"  
"I'm oh so certain that I am, Olga."  
"Please, come in, Lila."  
"Thank you Olga." Then Lila remembered her colleague. "Oh, this is Phoebe, Helga's best friend. She has brought her homework."  
"Oh, that's so wonderful. I was starting to worry that Helga didn't have any friends. Helga is in her room, Phoebe. You can go on up. Would you like to join us for dinner?"  
"Um, thanks anyway, Olga, but I need to save my appetite for when I get home."  
"Oh. Well, all right." Then Olga's attention returned to Lila. "What's in the box, little sis?"  
But by then they were out of earshot of Phoebe, who was standing in front of the door to Helga's room within her first minute in the house.  
  
knock knock "Helga?"  
No response.  
"Helga?" KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!  
Still no response.  
Most curious, Phoebe thought. Usually I at least hear something from her, or at the very least hear her moving around in there; but nothing, not even snoring. By now her ear was to the door. Well, she has to get her homework; I'll just have to risk invading her privacy.  
And so she opened the door to Helga's room without her okkay. She soon found that there was no way she could have gotten it, because Helga wasn't there to give it. Phoebe found herself standing in an empty room.  
Phoebe's mind teemed with questions and doubts, but as she was alone she wasn't about to give voice to them. Some people think it's perfectly normal for one to talk to oneself, but Phoebe Heyerdahl wasn't one of them. She deposited Helga's homework on the bed, then left the way she came without another sound.  
  
But as she descended the stairs, she wasn't sufficiently quiet to be unheard.  
"Phoebe?"  
ulp! "Yes, Olga."  
"You were only up there for a minute. Was my baby sister asleep?"  
"Um, she wasn't up, and I didn't disturb her."  
"Well, I guess she needs her sleep. I must remember to take her a plate later; a girl her age needs to eat."  
"Phoebe, are you oh so certain you can't stay for supper? Olga made Cornish pasties and bubble & squeak."  
"I'm going through my British Isles phase." Olga filled in.  
"Oh, no, I really need to wait until I get home. My dinner is waiting for me there."  
"Well, don't let us keep you, then." And with that, Olga's attention returned to Lila again.  
  
But as Phoebe was reaching the door she heard a knock on the other side. As she was going there anyway, she opened it. There stood a man in the uniform of a telegraph message company.  
"Yes?"  
"I have a telegram for a Phoebe Heyerdahl, and a telegram for a Lila Sawyer, both at this address."  
Several types of surprise registered in Phoebe's conscious & subconscious. "Well, I'm Phoebe Heyerdahl, and the other person might be here. Lila!"  
Lila came running in response to Phoebe's call. "Yes, Phoebe?"  
"Your name Lila Sawyer, miss?" inquired the man.  
"Why, yes, I am oh so sure it is."  
"I have a telegram for you, miss." he said, handing it over to her. Phoebe already had hers and was signing for it. Lila followed suit, then the man left and the door closed. The two of them then looked at their telegrams and each other.  
"So your last name is Sawyer?"  
"Yes."  
"Why didn't you ever tell anyone?"  
"It never came up. But I'm not thinking of that right now; what I would like to know is how that man knew that you and I would be here?"  
"I have no idea."  
Several minutes passed in silence.  
"Little sis?" cooed a voice from the kitchen.  
"I will be there in a minute. I'm just saying good-bye to Phoebe." Lila responded.  
"Before I leave, we might as well see what our telegrams say." Phoebe suggested.  
After an attempt at a response, which did not survive her lips, Lila nodded agreement. The next minute passed in silence broken only by a double ripping of envelopes and handling of two pieces of paper. Two pairs of eyes concentrated on the texts in front of them, then rose to meet each other, filled with puzzlement.  
"'The time is near; be ready tomorrow'." Phoebe quoted.  
"That is exactly what my message said." Lila affirmed.  
And we have no way of knowing who sent it or how whoever it was knew you or I would be at this house tonight."  
Lila nodded again. The concern both of them had now bordered on fear.  
  
"Little sis?"  
Startled into action, Phoebe folded her telegram, then put it in her purse. "You'd better get back in there."  
Similarly affected, Lila nodded for the third time in as many minutes. "Coming, Olga!" she responded, mouthing a 'good-bye' to Phoebe before turning on her heels and making a beeline for the dining room.  
  
Phoebe walked out of the house and to the bus stop. When the bus arrived she boarded, paid the fare, and dropped into the first empty seat she saw.  
On the way to her neighborhood, she kept an eye out for her stop, but the rest of her mind was occupied with questions about the telegrams, the identity of the sender, and one other question:  
If Helga wasn't in her room, where was she?  
  
Meanwhile, at PS118, a disturbance is occurring. An open skylight bears witness to an intruder's presence, as does the door to Mr. Simmons' classroom. From within, a voice can be heard.  
"'Pay It On Ahead to the Front'?" What, are we going to see a movie tomorrow? Pfeh, wonder what the ol' throw pillow has in mind now, and on the last day of school! Criminy! --- What's this? 'Summer Project'? Hm, might need to know about this. ---So we're to be grouped in threes this time. Better make sure I'm in the right three; time for the usual Machiavellian scheming."  
A bit of scribbling was heard, followed by things being returned to where they belong.  
"Perfect. Now to beat it before I'm missed."  
And so the trespasser leaves.  
Unknown to said trespasser, there is a second illegitimate presence, hiding in a broom closet. As soon as the former leaves, the latter emerges, and collects from the catch to the closet the tape which insured he / she wouldn't get locked in. Then this second prowler repeats the former's actions en route to, within, & en route from Simmons' room, although without the vocal effects. Well, without coherent vocal effects at least. 


	4. Pay It On Ahead to the Front

Well, I have Part 4 up within 48 hours, due to the quality of demand. I don't know what is more fun; writing my vision, seeing it up on ff.n, or reading the reviews. It goes without saying that I would like more of the same. Let's see...  
Dramagirl, I am.  
Horseamew, your question is answered; & while it might be a red herring it will be instrumental in advancing the plot, in an understated way; you'll see.  
Houkanna Yuuhou, you're right.  
JESS, you might want to take a refresher on Big Sis, a 4th season episode which was the flipside to Sid the Vampire Slayer. I don't know when it's coming on, but I'll keep my eye on Don Del Grande's listings & I advise you to do the same.  
Starry Nights, thanks especially; it's mutual.  
Hey, maybe now that I've finally joined Kim's message board, the word will get out more and I'll have too many reviews to respond to individually. Anyway, y'all might spread the word; I especially look forward to seeing feedback from Yardbird9. Please r&r, y'all.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. The movie mentioned herein is based on Pay It Forward, starring Kevin Spacey, Helen Hunt, & Haley Joel Osment, copyright Warner Brothers 2000.  
  
Another day dawns on Hillwood. Friday, the last day of school, the day before Arnold's birthday. The day on which, after much preparation, events will be set in motion that will change the lives of so many, forever.  
As the students file into PS118 for the last time until autumn, an unlikely pair was deep in conversation. 'Unlikely' as in no one had ever before seen this particular twosome having any sort of conversation; in fact, they had never been more than casual acquaintances in the opinions of everyone, including themselves.  
  
"Well, this is the day."  
"Yes."  
"Are you ready for, for whatever it is for which we're supposed to be ready?"  
"Well, considering that we have no way of knowing what is supposed to happen, I am as ready as it is possible to be."  
"You have a point, Phoebe."  
"By the way, Lila, what was in that box anyway?"  
"It was a video camera, with two blank video tapes included. It seems the Big Sis Little Sis organization wanted us to have a permanent record of our activities this summer; isn't that just ever so sweet?"  
"Sweet, yes. But 'permanent' is not exactly what I would call it; those video tapes will disintegrate inside of a couple of decades."  
"Oh, that's so sad."  
"Let me give you some advice: as soon as you have those video tapes filled, transfer them to DVD. I could have it done for you; I know a couple of people who would be glad to do it." She doesn't need to know it's Arnold & Gerald she thought.  
At that moment Phoebe's usual conversational partner made her presence known: "Phoebe!"  
"Coming." Phoebe hesitated just long enough to tell Lila, "We'll just have to see what happens." And was gone before Lila could respond.  
As Phoebe made her way to Helga, she passed Arnold, in the act of opening his locker. In addition to and in front of his usual school paraphernalia was a piece of paper with a few words scrawled on it. Arnold, puzzled, looked around in a vain attempt to guess the perpetrator; then he stuffed it into one school book and took out his usual needs for his first class, finishing with the customary slam of the locker.  
  
Meanwhile...  
"So what were you doing talking with Miss Perfect?"  
"Well, both she and I happened to be at your house last night..."  
"Pff! Don't remind me; the idea of her AND Olga under the same roof as myself at the same time, I still haven't gotten used to it."  
"Then you know why she was there. I was there to bring you your homework. By the way, what was wrong with you?"  
"Oh, just one of those 24-hour bugs. One day you're worshipping the porcelain goddess, the next you're back to normal. But don't change the subject, Phoebe."  
"Well, while we were there we both received telegrams, addressed to us at that address."  
"Huh. Wonder why I didn't hear about it."  
"I was wondering where you were."  
"Whadda ya mean?"  
"Well, when I took your homework upstairs, you weren't in your room."  
  
Only Phoebe would have been able to tell that Helga was getting a bit nervous. "Uh, well, did you look in the bathroom?"  
"No."  
"Uh, well, I was, there. You know I was, sick yesterday. When Lila came in I bolted for the commode just in time to keep from making a mess. I mean as soon as I knew she was in the house, BAM! I tell ya, Pheebs, those two are hard enough to take separately, but together they generate enough saccharine to give those lab rats cancer AND enough sugar to put them into diabetic comas. Free advice, Pheebs, watch your step around either of them, much less both."  
Helga had huffed & bluffed in her explanation in her trademark fashion, so Phoebe knew better than to believe a word of it. But she also knew Helga well enough to not let her (Helga) know that she (Phoebe) knew she (Helga) was lying. "Watching."  
"So what did the telegram say?"  
But before she could tell her best friend, Phoebe was quite literally saved by the bell. Helga as much as chased Phoebe to Simmons' classroom, peppering her with questions. But Phoebe kept her mouth shut. Why? Maybe because Helga hadn't been honest with her. Whatever the reason, she clammed up.  
  
Not so elsewhere in the classroom.  
"So what did the note say?"  
"I have it right here, Gerald."  
"Let's see, 'Who wrote the little pink book?' Hmm. We never did figure that out."  
"Maybe this was written by the same person."  
"Arnold, if you're going to start with your Ruth MacDougal theory again..."  
"Nah, I am so over her by now, Gerald."  
"Okkay. Well, you do have a point about the handwriting. We can compare them after school."  
Any further conversation was cut off when Mr. Simmons entered the room.  
  
'Helloooo, class!"  
Muted response.  
"Class, I know how on the last day of the school year it can be hard to focus on one's studies, what little is left. For this reason, as you might have noticed, I gave you your final tests for this school year earlier this week.  
"Now, you might wonder what reason there could be for you to even be here; well, as I said yesterday, we have come up with something I think you will like.  
"Right now we're going to watch a movie. Afterward I will tell you what we have in mind, but in the meantime I suggest you take notes on what you see; it will work to your advantage later. Gerald, will you please get the lights?"  
Gerald complied.  
The room went dark. The screen of the television - which had been rolled into the classroom for the occasion - lit up. For the next two hours and three minutes the attention of the class was more or less focused on Pay It On Ahead to the Front, a tearjerker movie from a couple of years ago about a class project to change the world through doing good deeds without recompense.  
When the movie ended and the lights went up, tears were seen on some faces. Mr. Simmons was just this side of crying his eyes out. But he sucked it up, after a minute or so; and after dabbing his eyes, he turned to the students.  
  
"sob, uh, class, you might have guessed that the movie we just saw has something to do with your final project for the school year.  
"As you are no doubt aware, at the end of the school year you are usually assigned a list of books that you are to read over the summer. Well, this summer, I thought we'd try something a little different.  
"Your final project is to help someone without expecting anything in return. I hope you took notes from what you just saw because they will be helpful to you, although I would advise against trying to set me up with someone's mother.  
"Now, this project will be much easier for you than it is for the boy we saw in this movie. He was one person who tried to help three people; you will be in groups of three who try to help one person. Won't that be special?"  
  
Various shades of muttering and grumbling were now going on.  
  
"Aw, more good works? Don't I get enough of this from Rabbi Goldberg?" That was Harold.  
"Charitable endeavors? Can't I just send money?" And that was Rhonda.  
  
"Huh? I don't get it." Yup, you guessed it, Stinky.  
But the last statement didn't go unheeded; Sid tried to explain to Stinky. "It means we all have to be Arnold for the summer."  
"Oh, I get it. No wait, that doesn't make any sense at all."  
Well, in the manner of what someone once said, if you have any questions go to Sid, then go to Phoebe if you want the real answers. If this was an old saying or not, it was nonetheless put into practice now, as Phoebe contributed to the conversation.  
"It means that we are to go about doing good for someone without asking anything in return, much like Arnold does on a regular basis."  
"That's right, Phoebe." Simmons finally got a word in. "And how observant of you to point out one of us who in fact has already been putting the lessons of Pay It On Ahead to the Front into practice for years. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if the movie was based on him."  
  
A few laughed. Arnold was not enjoying all of this attention. And even his best friend wasn't helping.  
"Hey Arnold, next time we get ice cream from the Jolly Olly man, how about you springing for it? You should have the money with all these royalties you're getting, right?"  
Arnold just looked at his friend with a baleful glare that as much as said, 'Et tu, Gerald?' His attention was interrupted, however, by yet another spitball.  
It wasn't often that one managed to find its way under his hat, but when one did it really hurt.  
"CUT IT OUT!" he hissed, his head whipping around to where Helga sat.  
  
"What?" she innocently asked. She was good at assaulting him one second and looking innocent the very next one. She should; she had been doing both for years.  
  
What she said to herself next also came from years of experience.  
"Hmph, Arnold! Such a do-goody know-it-all meddler! So naive with his little football head in the clouds!  
"And yet..."she continued, opening her math book to the miniature shrine.  
It was a good thing she could turn in her textbooks anonymously at the end of each school year --- cleaned out, of course. It was also a good thing she was good enough at math that she didn't need most of what she cut out every year, and it was a third good thing that when she did need something that had been sacrificed for the football-headed love god --- like homework she needed to study --- she could work out of Phoebe's textbook.  
"...I pledge my undying adoration to him. Such a boundless, bottomless bounty of benevolence. Of course he will change the world; how could he not? Nicholas, Valentine and Francis of Assisi combined had not the pure unfettered altruism of the one, the only, St. Arnold."  
Helga paused in her reverie to listen; this was the point where she was used to hearing the wheezes of a certain geek who would invariably have a meeting with Old Betsy, or not, since she had been seeing Dr. Bliss. Only he had not been keeping those appointments for well over a year.  
She would never admit it to anyone, least of all to herself, but she missed that. Ah, she'd get over it.  
  
But now Simmons had her attention again.  
"Okkay, the groupings will be: Group 1 --- Arnold, Helga, and...,"  
Of course, Arnold's wince was the counterpoint to Helga's sadistic smile, for a second.  
"...wait, that's not right, it's..."  
Now Arnold was momentarily relieved and Helga puzzled.  
"...oh, it's Arnold, Gerald & Helga,." And now Gerald's gloom matched that of his best friend as Helga's stupefaction continued.  
As did Simmons' voice.  
"Group 2 --- Brainy, Lila & Phoebe," And now Helga was even more befuddled, as the latter two in that group looked at each other with wonder and not a little concern, Brainy's face maintaining its characteristic inscrutably blank look.  
"Group 3 --- Nadine, Rhonda & Sid; Group 4 --- Curly, Harold & Stinky; Group 5 --- Eugene, Lorenzo & Sheena.  
"Now class, you'll have all summer to complete this. And so that you can get a head start, you can get together and plan your strategies for the rest of the school day. Which means that as of now, you're practically free to go; although Principal Wartz insists that you not leave the school grounds until 3:00.  
"Oh, and one more thing. Your group activities are to remain strictly within the group, which means you can't tell anyone what you're doing, except for me, as I might need to approve certain directions in which you might decide to go.  
"Well, I guess that's it. I'll be right here for the rest of the day if anyone needs me. And in case I don't see you again before the end of the day, I hope you all have a very special summer."  
  
As soon as Mr. Simmons sat down after finishing his remarks, the students took same as a cue to empty the classroom, filing out in ones & two & threes --- or not --- amid a welter of confused babblings, from which one could catch aural glimpses of coherent thought.  
  
"Aw, I got stuck with Curly & Stinky?"  
"Harold, man, is there anyone you wouldn't have objected to working with?"  
"Well, you and Arnold wouldn't have been that bad."  
"Yeah, well, we don't particularly like who we're working with either."  
"Yeah, I can't stand Madame Fortress Mommy. But at least there's two of you to one of her."  
  
"I don't mind working with you, but Sid?"  
"I think he's cute."  
"I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but this is not about how you look. Watch your step around him, Nadine; he's a player, or he would be if girls would give him the time of day."  
"Rhonda, I'm hurt. You know that's not true."  
"Yeah, right. Every time I'm foolish enough to invite you to one of my parties I see you flirting with every girl that's even remotely attractive; Ruth MacDougal, for one."  
"I do not; that's Arnold's crush."  
"Sid, I've seen you."  
  
"Mr. Simmons, suppose the person we wish to help is in the group?"  
  
"I just don't get it. It was supposed to be you & me taking on Football-Head. Now I'm stuck with him AND Tall Hair Boy! Criminey!"  
"'supposed to be'?"  
"Yes! I mean I made sure that, er, uh, I mean, what are they thinking, assigning charitable activities over the summer?"  
"It is from noble intentions."  
"That's not the point. This is forced volunteerism, which is a contradiction in terms. They probably got the idea from that Kennedy cousin who went to Maryland and got herself elected lieutenant governor, you know. Whose idea was it to assign summer projects anyway; don't they know kids are supposed to have summers off?"  
"Maybe its preparation for adulthood, when we'll never get summers off."  
"All the more reason for us to enjoy our childhood while we can!"  
  
While the rest of the class hung around talking with each other, Lila was the only one who had reached the hall by now; specifically, the lockers.  
She opened hers, only to find a note inside, in front of her school stuff.  
"Meet me at the library to discuss the project." That's what it said.  
  
Lila was just a little bit frightened now, and she wondered.  
Did it come from Phoebe? No, Helga still had her ear.  
Who, then? Brainy? Where is he anyway; she hadn't noticed him in class as she was leaving.  
She made the appropriate exchange of books and Pony Expressed it for the library, the sound of her locker slamming echoing in an empty hall.  
  
When she reached the school library she wasn't sure exactly where to go, so she wandered up one aisle & down another.  
As she turned a corner to where some tables were, she heard a very unfamiliar voice.  
"Hello, Lila. Please, have a seat; make yourself comfortable."  
Lila couldn't believe her eyes or ears.  
"Brainy?"  
  
Ayup, cliffhanger time again. But we don't want to rush things here. Don't worry. In the words of Sledge Hammer, trust me; I know what I'm doing. The next part will be up within five days, or five reviews, whichever comes first. Or maybe sooner, or later; y'all know how rl can deal unexpected hands.  
Now, two things. One, I have no idea what projects the other groups would do, with the possible exception of the Eugene-Lorenzo-Sheena group. Any suggestions? Two, the usual: read & review please. Or is that three things; the two there go together so integrally. Well, do it anyway. And I'll cy'all around. 


	5. Cross-Examining Lila

Well, I said five days or five reviews, and I meant it; however, as it is now technically my birthday, I decided to cut us all a break. Here's the next chapter.  
Fair warning; despite what the title might cause y'all to think, I am not a Lila hater. Eventually, she will get what I think she deserves. Some might disagree, but they are not me.  
  
As always, thanks for the reviews.  
Horseamew, maybe this will answer some questions of yours, or maybe it'll just stir up more! And maybe those questions you had include the questions Houkanno Yuuhou asks.  
HY, thanks for the heads-up & the suggestion; I will consider it. And your questions will be answered, not in this chapter but maybe in the next chapter. Something to which to look forward.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, & / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. And I'm beginning to see the need to be more creative in these disclaimers; maybe next time.  
  
"Brainy?"  
"Yes, Lila, it's me."  
It was indeed, apparently. But this was the first time she had ever heard him speak with any degree of coherence. In fact, as far as she knew, this was the first time he had clearly said more than two words to anyone.  
It was not an altogether unpleasant voice, rather rough and gravelly --- had she seen certain movies or watched Millennium on television, she might have thought he sounded a bit like Lance Henriksen --- but the shock of actually hearing relatively clear speech from Brainy was quite overpowering.  
It took her a moment to recover, and when she did questions started to spill out of her mouth.  
"But why...?"  
"I'd really prefer to wait to answer your questions about that until Phoebe gets here; she'll have the exact same questions, and I'd rather not repeat myself."  
"Fair enough." Lila conceded.  
Brainy repeated his offer of a seat, which she accepted. There were three seats around this table, equally spaced. Lila sat to Brainy's left, so that it could be considered that if the table were the face of a clock Brainy would be sitting at 6 o'clock and Lila at 10, leaving an empty seat at 2 o'clock.  
  
As Lila was taking this in, Brainy took the initiative in making conversation, a conversation that was not mere small talk.  
"Phoebe will no doubt be listening to Helga for a little while at least, so we have some time before she gets here. I'd like to use that time to get something straight."  
"What?"  
"Exactly what are your intentions toward Arnold?"  
"What?!?"  
"I apologize if I seem too forward or intrusive into things that are admittedly none of my business, but for reasons I will soon reveal it is vitally important to clarify just how you feel about him. It's a matter of record that 'you don't like him like him; you just like him', but is that how you truly feel?"  
Lila was flabbergasted at this invasion of privacy, even though Brainy had conceded that it was such. "Um, Brainy, as you have said this is really..."  
"I acknowledge that, Lila, and were it not vitally important I wouldn't have asked. Please believe me when I say it is no exaggeration to say that the future happiness of several people depends on your answer. Including possibly yourself."  
Lila still hesitated, understandably.  
"It might be good for you to tell someone, someone who's good at covering up things, like his own competence for instance?"  
  
Lila struggled internally with the pros and cons of what she was about to do for a few more moments. But he was right; getting the subject off of her mind would be beneficial. Finally she too broached the subject.  
"It is as you say, as I have said. I don't like like Arnold, I only like him."  
"Truly and honestly?"  
"Truly and honestly."  
"But you used to like like him."  
"I thought I did, when I thought he like liked me."  
"And now that he does?"  
Lila gave her head a decisive shake, as if trying to settle the subject once and for all. "I still don't. I won't. I was just fooling myself before; I know now that he's not that oh-so-special someone I've been looking for. He's ever so nice and sweet, and any girl would be oh so fortunate to have him, but he and I are simply not meant to be."  
"I see." Brainy slowly let out the breath Lila didn't realize he'd been holding. He gave a small smile, then his face turned serious again. "Then you should tell him."  
"I have, ever so many times."  
"Then he apparently hasn't gotten the message. Lila, I don't think you realize it, but at least on a subconscious level, you've been manipulating him."  
Lila gasped, outraged. But her curiosity gave her pause. "Go on."  
"Haven't you noticed how he follows you around, hanging on your every word, carrying things for you, doing things for you, things a boyfriend would do, like he was hoping to get that position?"  
Lila still struggled with what she was hearing. "I, I had no idea..."  
  
So Arnold's not the only dense one crossed Brainy's mind. Then he tried another tack. "Lila, I've noticed things about you, heard things. I can guess the kind of life you've had. Born and raised in the comfort, the security, the love of a two parent home in Pleasantville. No worries, no cares, your only concerns your assigned chores; because you knew that no matter what, your father and mother would always be there for you and love you."  
The tears rushed to Lila's eyes at the word 'mother', fighting to get out.  
"But then something happened. I don't know what, but I can guess. Perhaps the loss of a parent, along with a failure to keep the farm going with just your father and you."  
"That's exactly what happened." whispered Lila.  
"And so you come here," Brainy continued, "to the big city. Here you are, all alone in a strange place. You were raised on love and kindness, and you wanted people to like you, so you were your true, kind, honest self, to everyone. You became what some of us have labeled Miss Perfect. Am I right?" Mutely, Lila nodded, tears now crisscrossing the area below her eyes.  
Brainy noticed her condition; he pulled a package of tissues from a pocket and offered her one, which she accepted. He continued.  
"It's no wonder the guys here fell for you, especially Arnold. Have you ever heard his story?"  
HOOOOOOOOOOONNNNKKK!!!!!  
"I'll take that as a 'no'." Brainy then told her of a little boy whose parents disappeared when he was one. A boy who had been raised right, by his grandparents. A boy whose optimism, whose sense of right & wrong had carried him through many a dark time in his life. A boy who, despite the love of his family and many friends, had in some ways suffered twice as much as she had; for at least she still had one parent.  
Before he finished he found he'd given her half the tissues in the package in an attempt to stem the tide of lachrymal fluid, or at least to clean up afterward.  
  
When the story was over, Lila looked and felt a mess. She excused herself to go straighten her appearance, inside and out.  
Brainy checked the time, not believing his luck that Phoebe wasn't there yet. Boy, Helga must really be on a tear today, he thought with a smirk.  
He put away the smirk when Lila returned.  
She took an extra minute after seating herself to collect her thoughts. "I had no idea. The poor dear. I must go to him and..."  
"That's exactly what you must not do." Brainy urged, taking her hand in the process. "You'd be leading him on again, even if you don't intend to."  
He then noticed he was holding her hand, and let go, embarrassed.  
"Look, Arnold is in love with the idea of being in love. He's been infatuated before, and every time it's resulted in heartbreak. Ruth MacDougal, our one-time substitute teacher Miss Felter, some girl I'm pretty sure he met at the beach, 'Cecile' for whom he still carries a torch, Lila, if you tried to care for him now you'd just be adding yourself to that list of girls who broke his heart. You're already on it, but this would put you in a category by yourself."  
"What can I do, then?"  
"Make it clear to him where things stand between you. Leave no room for doubt, make sure he understands that there isn't anything between the two of you, and there never will be."  
"But that seems so cruel."  
"Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. It's like releasing a wild animal for which you've developed affection. You have to let him go and make him forget about getting back with you, because you know it's best for him."  
"Then what will he do?"  
"Someone else will be there for him, someone who was there every time some girl broke his heart, someone who was there when you dumped him before. And we both know who that someone is."  
Realization slapped Lila upside the head then. She understood what Brainy had in mind, which was more than he had let on.  
  
But there was still something she didn't understand, something she had to know.  
"Brainy, why are you doing this? What is your interest in the matter?"  
"I have my reasons," Brainy responded. Then he noticed Phoebe had finally entered the building, heading for them. "Which I will soon make clear, to both of you."  
He then stood to acknowledge the arrival of their new colleague. "Hello, Phoebe. Would you please join us?"  
It was interesting to see the change in size of Phoebe's eyes refracted through her glasses, as she froze. Lila stifled a giggle; only a number of minutes ago, that had been her.  
"B-Brainy?"  
  
And so ends Chapter 5, much the same way as Chapter 4. Things will start to become more clear next time. Please continue to read & review, and to send in suggestions about what the other teams might do for any particular person. If you don't want to leave it on the official ff.n reviews, you can e-mail me nftnataol.com or IM me by looking for Nftnat. 


	6. Brainy's plan, and master plan

Goodness, so many reviews! Well, to make up for the long time it took me to put this thing up this chapter is long, and I mean LONG! Twelve pages on MS Works! I apologize for that, but I couldn't see a good place to break, so here it is.  
  
Thank you for the reviews, particularly Starry Nights, Houkanno Yuuhou, & Sleather Chonkers. You don't know what it means to me that my submission, to ff.n yet, is getting attention from the HA! board.  
SN, you're about to find out.  
HY, I'll admit I am one of those people (I remember seeing a rerun of an early episode of Scarecrow & Mrs. King and noticing how adorably moppet- like Jamie and Philip were; I wondered if we --- my brother & I --- were ever that saccharine? And I was told that we were worse)  
SC, yes, I am severely lacking in character description and atmosphere, like what the characters are wearing, etc. Hopefully I'll improve on that. Anyway, like I said I value all advice I can get from the board. I hope for more of the same.  
I'd also like to thank Yardbird9 for his e-mail; hopefully, you too will get some answers here.  
JESS, Horseamew, Dramagirl310, thank y'all too.  
  
Be advised that in reading this chapter, you'll find out much. I'm going into dangerous territory when it comes to ooc re. Brainy, but really, what do we know about him? Plus, he's been in therapy for a year and a half. I have plans for him, big plans.  
Also, I cried while writing certain sections of this; what do you think the chances will be of your reading it without crying? You've been warned.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which is in turn owned by Viacom.  
I'm not sure which company originally held the copyright on I Claudius by Robert Graves, but the reissue of it and of its sequel Claudius the God is copyrighted by Vintage International. The tv version was one of the classics from PBS' Masterpiece Theatre.  
  
"B-Brainy?!?"  
"Yes, Phoebe, it's me, Brainy. Please, would you join us?"  
Momentarily muted, Phoebe did as her fellow glasses-wearer suggested.  
  
As she sat she cast a glance at Lila that as much as asked questions. In response, Lila could only shake her head and shrug. There was nothing she could say; all that she and Brainy had been talking about was her. And Arnold.  
As before, Brainy took charge.  
"I assume the two of you have pretty much the same questions you want to ask me, so I'll save us all a lot of time by answering at least some of them first.  
"Obviously, I can speak. My taciturnity you might say, and the heavy breathing, are mostly an act. I do have asthma, but I keep it under control with medication. Not to mention drinking plenty of water, and one thing you must admit about these institutions of learning; you're never too far from a water fountain."  
That attempt at humor went flatter than a Yahoo soda that was opened last month.  
"Right. Well, moving on..." But by now the ladies' patience had run out.  
"Did you put this note in my locker?" Lila began, holding up the note as Phoebe held up a similar piece of paper, which by implication had been placed in her locker.  
"Yes."  
"How?" Phoebe asked.  
"I have my ways."  
"That's not good enough."  
Brainy calmly looked back at Phoebe. "You're right; it isn't. But for now it will do."  
Now it was Lila's turn again. "Did you send those telegrams to us at Helga's last night?"  
"For that matter, did you have something to do with the three of us being on the same team for this project?" Phoebe continued.  
A wry smile crossed Brainy's face. "Right. I just happened to know ahead of time that the both of you were going to be at Helga's last night. Not to mention the breaking into Simmons' office, the going through his lesson plans that would've been necessary to have arranged something like what you're implying. Do you have any idea what it would take to pull off something like that?"  
Brainy was doing a masterful job of talking around the truth without actually admitting or denying anything; even Phoebe, accustomed as she was to such linguistic legerdemain from Helga, didn't notice that he never actually answered the question. She and Lila just looked at each other, defeated. Finally, she tried another tack.  
"All right, could you at least explain why you hide behind the wheezing, why you're so quiet? You're obviously quite intelligent; why hide it?"  
Brainy was silent for a while. Minute followed minute, and as his silence continued the others started to wonder if hearing him speak at all hadn't been a dream. Then, he broke the silence.  
"What the hey, I've gone in this far, I guess I'll have to start trusting someone sometime. Tell me, have you ever read I Claudius, or seen the tv series?"  
That came out of left field, and took Phoebe aback somewhat. Then she too found her voice. "We have the book at home, as well as its sequel Claudius the God. And we have the series on videotape; we're on the waiting list for the DVD."  
"Do you remember Claudius' meeting in the library with Pollio, the historian?"  
Phoebe's mind went into overdrive as she tried to recall the exact scene to which Brainy was referring. Finally, her silence too was broken as comprehension dawned on her, the requested information having registered in her mind. "Yes!, Yes, I do!"  
"Do you remember the advice Pollio gave Claudius?"  
Phoebe had to think about this another minute, but she remembered after a few more minutes. "Y-yes, he, he said, 'If you want to survive, exaggerate your stammer and twitch... no one will think you're worth killing.'"  
"And it worked; he survived all of the intrigues, all of the murder. Finally, he was installed as emperor, because he was the only one left. I can still recall what he said to the Senate when that happened." His eyes cast upward with the memory. "He told them that they may think him half- witted, 'but at least I have survived with half my wits while thousands have died with all of theirs intact'."  
Phoebe puzzled over this for a while. "So what does that have to do with you?"  
"I don't get a lot of grief from those who dish it out because I don't impress them as worthy of their time. I don't stand out. I get a little flak from Torvald or whoever, but no more than anyone else and much less than most people. You must have noticed, even been on the receiving end of little bits of abuse yourself because of your intelligence or your glasses."  
"Well..." Phoebe hedged.  
"Exactly. And if you weren't best friends with Helga, who knows how much worse it would've been. You might've been riding the back of the bus with the rest of us geeks.  
"And what about you?" He continued, turning to Lila. "Do you remember what happened to you during your first weeks here?"  
"Please don't remind us." Phoebe pleaded. "I was part of that."  
"It's all right, Phoebe. It's in the faraway past now; I've already forgiven and forgotten." said Lila.  
"Yes, she and Helga and Rhonda and the others apologized and all of you made up and are more or less friends now, but that doesn't change the fact that it did happen."  
Phoebe seemed more upset than Lila at that bit of the past, so Brainy didn't dwell on it. "You see, anyone who distinguishes themselves in any way invites attention, and some of that attention is always negative. So I avoid it. People don't even know I exist. I'm a sphincter, a specter, a cipher, and I prefer it that way. Although I have been seeing Dr. Bliss for this among other things; all of that might change. You might just have some serious competition next year for the academic honors, Phoebe."  
"I look forward to the challenge." she responded.  
"All of this is ever so interesting and informative," put in Lila, "but we're supposed to be discussing our group project, and we haven't said anything about it yet. I assume you have something in mind, Brainy?"  
"Well..."  
  
RRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!  
  
Immediately, Brainy started to pack his school things. "Saved by the bell. Look at what you two have done; you've been getting me to talk about myself so much that now it's time for lunch. We'll just have to come back afterwards, pick this up after lunch. Same time same place?"  
And with that he walked away from the table and out of the library.  
  
It took awhile for Phoebe and Lila to follow suit. They were reeling; this person who that morning they wouldn't have credited with the intelligence or cognizance of Eugene's latest bike had left them utterly stupefied and bamboozled. Finally they arose.  
"So what did you two talk about?" Phoebe inquired.  
"Mostly about me."  
"You?"  
Lila nodded.  
"Any idea why?"  
"I think it has something to do with Arnold. He wanted to know what my feelings are for him, and then he told me I had to make it clear to him where we stand. I don't know what to make of it."  
But I have my suspicions she thought, not telling Phoebe what Brainy implied about Helga.  
This was yet another shock for Phoebe. "Really? Would you care to tell me more about it?"  
"I'd really rather not, Phoebe. It's been a long morning, and I'm oh so hungry now."  
And with that, Lila left for lunch, Phoebe hot on her heels.  
Of course they separated before they got to the cafeteria, as Phoebe gravitated to her usual lunch companion, Helga.  
  
At lunch, Phoebe and Lila both made attempts to talk with Brainy, but it was exactly like talking with a brick wall. When anyone --- such as Helga --- questioned the two, the stock answer was "group project", which adequately served to fend off further questions. By the end of lunch Helga had come to the conclusion that was Brainy was being a pain, which was true come to think of it.  
  
Even before lunch period ended, Phoebe and Lila were back in the library at the same table. Brainy was due to return, and they were determined to be ready for him.  
It started as soon as he was seated. "Brainy," Phoebe began, "up to now we've been very patient with you, but your statements and actions have now officially driven us to the point of distraction. It seems that every time you answer one question we have, you cause two more to be raised."  
"Ah, yes. I am quite the Hydra, aren't I?"  
"I'm serious! That is, Lila and I, we're serious. It's come to this: you're not leaving here until we have some real answers."  
"All right, but could we discuss our project first?"  
"Fine!"  
"Excuse me?" Lila finally piped up.  
"What?" said a still hot under the collar Phoebe.  
"Well, Brainy implied that he had a project idea in mind; perhaps we could start by hearing what it is."  
By now Phoebe's ire had almost run out. Or it had reached that level at which one doesn't trust oneself to speak. For whatever reason, Phoebe said not a word, but only nodded.  
The spotlight was now on Brainy, as if it wasn't before. Finally, they were going to get some answers.  
"Well, what I had in mind was to help a certain dysfunctional family to heal."  
Phoebe and Lila exchanged surprised looks. Whatever they had been expecting, it wasn't that! But then again, Brainy was proving to be full of surprises today.  
Finally, Phoebe found her voice. "Well, Brainy, I will admit that is an intriguing prospect. Do you have in mind any family in particular?"  
"Yes, I do."  
"Someone we know?"  
"Oh, yes. In fact, the youngest member of this family should be entering this building just about--"  
"CRIMINEY!!!"  
"SSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"  
"--now."  
The identity of the owner of the voice they had heard could not be mistaken; it was Helga G. Pataki. Phoebe and Lila shifted their gaze and their heads in the direction from which it had come.  
Sure enough, there she was, along with Arnold and Gerald. Apparently, theirs was not the only group that decided to work on their project in the library.  
Phoebe's head whipped back around to face Brainy. "The Patakis? You want to help the Patakis get along with each other, like a normal family?!?"  
"Yes."  
Phoebe was aghast. "Brainy, if it were possible I would be the first to go along with it. Helga's my best friend, and I hate seeing her suffer. But--"  
"I think we can do it, and I've already worked out how."  
That brought Phoebe's train of speech to an end, again. The observer could almost see the gears turning in her mind. But Brainy apparently came to the conclusion that she needed just a little bit more convincing.  
"Come with me, ladies." He invited, rising from his chair.  
He walked to the set of stacks on one side of them. On the other side of those shelves was the table where the other group sat.  
Brainy stopped six inches away from the books, a two-inch gap between shelves directly in front of him. He was perfectly situated to see everything that went on at that table without being seen himself. Half a minute later, he was conscious of Phoebe and Lila finally joining him. The three of them proceeded to eavesdrop on the goings on with Arnold, Gerald and Helga.  
  
"So, anyone have any ideas?" Arnold was heard to begin.  
"Criminey, Football-head! You're in this group, so it'll be no problem. They were right in class; that movie was your life story."  
"I didn't think I'd ever hear myself say this, but Helga's right, Arnold. You do this kind of thing in your sleep." Gerald found himself seconding Helga's opinion.  
"That's just what I was saying, Geraldo. Doi! This is one project I am not worried about. In fact, I think I'll just take a walk while you two figure something out. Or I should say while Arnoldo figures it out like he always does.  
"Helga, would you cut my man a break? He didn't get any sleep last night what with--"  
"THAT'S IT!!"  
"SSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
"sorry" three voices uttered in concert.  
"Nice going, football-head." muttered Helga.  
"I can't believe it; she got you in trouble again!" Gerald whispered, too low for Helga to hear. It was too low for those on the other side of the stacks to hear too, but Phoebe read Gerald's lips, so Brainy and Lila knew what he was saying.  
Had they paid attention, they might've have noticed Phoebe looking at Gerald almost as much as she was looking at Helga.  
"So what is this brilliant plan of yours, hair boy?"  
Voices lowered. As Arnold's back was to them, the three on the other side of the stacks couldn't make out what he was saying. But Gerald and Helga could, and their response was immediate, instantaneous, and in unison.  
"WHAAAATT?!?!?"  
"SSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
"sorry"  
"Now who's getting whom into trouble?" Arnold remarked sardonically.  
But the others wouldn't be denied as first Helga, and then Gerald, continued to expostulate.  
"That's, that's just crazy! Absolutely insane! It's impossible, no one can do that!"  
"It must be one of the signs of the Apocalypse, but Helga's right again, man. I mean, if it wasn't something you've tried to do before I'd think different, and it's not like you haven't pulled off some miracles in the past. You got us into the book of records, you cured Chocolate Boy of his chocolate addiction, you saved the neighborhood..."  
"We know the list, Geraldo."  
"...but you already tried this, and it wore you out!"  
"That was because I didn't see this option before. All we have to do is--"  
"Excuse me; I need to get up for a minute, before the insanity spreads." Helga interrupted as she left her seat.  
She ducked behind Arnold and continued on in that direction; the direction that would take her to the shelves; not two feet away from where Brainy, Lila and Phoebe were, looking at her approaching them!  
There would have been panic had Brainy not called the girls' attention to the fact that Helga was still quite a few inches taller than them, as a result of which her eye level would meet only books. Plus the light was better on her side, so even had she thought to look she wouldn't have seen their shadows.  
Secure in her ignorance of their presence, the three tuned their ears for her soliloquy, which wasn't long in coming.  
  
"Hmph! Arnold! What a dreamer! What a doofus! What an ignorantly naive little man! And yet..." Here she took out her locket. "I adore him. His commitment to right all of the problems in the world one by one, to fix what is wrong no matter how long it takes him or how much it costs. Such noble self-sacrifice which I have seen again and again--"  
"Helga?"  
"gasp um, I'll be right there, Football-head!"  
Saddened, she looked back at her locket. "Why? Why can't I call out to him like he does to me?"  
She paused, as if waiting for something. Then, hiding her melancholy under a mask of bravado as was her wont, Helga marched back to the table, taking her place with Arnold and Gerald.  
  
Three heads turned back to the table on this side of the stacks.  
Phoebe and Lila were nervous. Of course they knew of Helga's secret love for Arnold, but they didn't know that Brainy knew. Helga had gone to the trouble to make sure she was unobserved whenever she launched into her poetic flights dedicated to the football-headed love god; what then were the chances of Brainy having been observed any time he crept up behind Helga in the past?  
As the three seated themselves, a silence descended, a silence once again broken by Brainy.  
"Did you notice that point where she paused, as if she was waiting for something?"  
Heads nodded.  
"That was the point when I used to come up behind her, breathing more heavily than usual. Then she would punch in an emergency meeting with Ole Betsy, or sometimes the Five Avengers."  
Comprehension dawned on the others.  
"You see, I've known about this for some time."  
As they realized the depth of what Brainy knew about Helga - quite possibly more than the two of them put together - the ladies were speechless. Or Lila was; Phoebe did manage to squeak out one word. "Why?"  
One pair of glasses swung to face another. "Why?" he repeated.  
"Why would you sneak up behind Helga?"  
A melancholy smile drifted across his face. "All in good time." he assured her.  
  
Brainy was silent for a minute, then he started his final argument, deciding the time had come to pull out all of the stops. "Did you see her, ladies? Did you really see her? Did you notice the turmoil that is even more a part of her than the bully facade? People don't, you know. They don't see the real Helga, because she's afraid to let them know it exists. Because of the pain at home, and the pain of peer pressure, she has walled herself into a prison, a prison inside which the true Helga is dying, yes, dying. It is suffocating behind the stones thrown with every unkind word, starving from the lack of affection and honest caring, drowning in a sea of hurt and resentment. And now, with the onset of adolescence imminent, it will only get worse. If someone doesn't intervene --- if we, ladies, don't intervene --- oh, I shudder to think of what her tragic end will be. Suicide, perhaps, or patricide? A loveless marriage? An abusive relationship? Relationships consisting of casual sex and little else, or worse, selling her body for the illusion of love and the reality of money? The utter death of the Helga we know is there? Take another look, ladies," he exhorted as he pointed beyond the stacks to her place at the other table. "Take another look at her tortured exterior and deny her the humane treatment we all deserve if you can! Look at her! Look at the anguish we know is there, and then tell me, hasn't she suffered enough for one lifetime?"  
The speech had its intended effect, causing rivers to pour out of Phoebe and Lila's faces. It was a good thing that Brainy had thought to pick up a couple of extra packages of tissues during lunch.  
The tear floods continued for a quarter of an hour, the only response to his question of which Phoebe & Lila were capable consisting of the vigorous nods of their heads. Brainy saw that he had carried the day, so he said nothing, waiting for his colleagues to compose themselves and replenishing their tissues when necessary.  
  
Finally, Phoebe again managed to say one word, and again it was one of the journalistic questions: "When?"  
"When what?" said Brainy.  
"When do we start?"  
"Well, it will have to be next weekend."  
"Why not this weekend?"  
"Something else is going down this weekend, something which will have to take place if my plan is to come to fruition.  
"You see, ladies," he continued, pulling a sheet of paper out of his school things, "this is part of a greater plan I have. Of course as soon as we complete our group project I am willing to continue it on my own; I won't ask you to help me any further."  
"Let me see that!" Phoebe exclaimed as she yanked the paper from his grasp. But after reading it, she was, while closer to the truth, just as puzzled. "'Obstacles to be removed in order to bring Arnold and Helga together'?"  
"What?" Lila finally found her voice.  
"What is this?" Phoebe demanded.  
Brainy didn't dare hedge, not this time. "Well, it's like I said, I've known about it for some time. I've long since lost count of the times I've heard her waxing rhapsodic about her muse, the football-headed love god. And both of you have known too."  
Dead silence reigned.  
"I know. Neither of you can talk about it. She's your best friend, so with you it's a sacred trust. And you," here his gaze shifted from Phoebe to Lila. "she told you. I'm not sure when, but my money would be on the time we did Romeo & Juliet. And unless I miss my guess, she followed the revelation with some threat of physical duress which was no doubt unnecessary, but that's Helga."  
He paused for a melancholy sigh, then continued. "But I'm under no such restrictions. She doesn't regard me, and she hasn't threatened me, so I am free to broach the silence about this matter between us. I can tell you what you already know, that she is absolutely, positively in love."  
He continued, remembering what he'd heard from outside the office building where Dr. Bliss had her office on that day, the day he'd "proposed" to Helga. "She wants to grow up and..."  
"She's head over heels..." Lila interrupted, recalling Helga's confession.  
Phoebe followed suit, the sleepwalking incident flooding out of her mouth. "She absolutely adores him..."  
"...and have a fabulous life with him..." continued Brainy. And from here, the three took turns with their memories.  
Lila: "...hook line & sinker..."  
Brainy: "...coffee in Paris..."  
Phoebe: "...positively mad..."  
Brainy: "...roses, sailboats,..."  
Lila: "...over the moon..."  
Brainy: "...the whole nine yards..."  
Phoebe: "...mad as a hatter..."  
Brainy: "...a perfume named after them, Arnold & Helga..."  
Lila: "...loop the loop..."  
Phoebe: "...utterly nutty..."  
Lila: "...wah wah deuce..."  
Phoebe: "...ga-ga in love."  
Lila: "...in love with the boy."  
Their reveries ended, Phoebe and Lila gasped, shocked at what they'd just revealed to each other and to Brainy. He just gave a cryptic smile.  
"Very good; no illusions between us. So now we know that we know, now we can proceed.  
"You see, this is why it had to be the three of us doing this. For reasons I'll go into later, I had to do this, and it had to be with the two of you. We three are the only ones who I know know the secret. You two are the only ones I can talk to, the only ones I can trust."  
The significance of a trust was not lost on either of the ladies; at that moment they knew that they too had to see this through to the end, just like Brainy.  
Phoebe looked askance at Lila. "'wah wah deuce'?"  
Lila shrugged. "I'm ever so certain that I have no idea what that means."  
Phoebe wasn't sure how to pursue that, so her attention returned to the sheet of paper in her hand. "'1: Remove competition for Arnold'." She then looked at Brainy, questions in her eyes.  
"That means to make sure that whoever Arnold is currently infatuated with is out of the picture."  
"Already taken care of." Lila announced, "or it soon will be."  
"When?" Brainy asked.  
"This weekend, I'm just not sure of the exact time."  
"Well, it shouldn't be tomorrow I would think," put in Phoebe, "with it being his birthday and all..."  
"That's right, tomorrow is his birthday. I had oh so forgotten that he invited me."  
"Are you going?"  
"Yes."  
"You, Brainy?"  
Brainy nodded. "I'm the dj. They can't afford Nebulous Ned or whatever name he's using now, so they get me. How about you?"  
"Oh, of course. Someone has to keep an eye on Helga."  
While Phoebe was talking, Brainy noticed a few stray tears still hanging around Lila's eyes. As he was taking a tissue out of the package, he heard the end of Phoebe's last statement. Surreptitiously, he wrote "...and Gerald" on the tissue in marker before he handed it to Lila. She saw what he'd written before she used the tissue, hiding a smile behind it.  
  
"Alright, then. I'll tell him Sunday. And I know exactly how I'll do it."  
"I won't ask how, but we'd better know the when and where, Lila. Helga will need to be there to pick up the pieces, again." said Brainy.  
"Sunday, at the zoo in the park. I'd say 2:00."  
Brainy's eyes moved to Phoebe.  
"I can get Helga there, but would you have any idea how?"  
Brainy thought for a few seconds. Then his visage broke out in an ear to ear grin, accompanied by chuckles that dangerously bordered on guffaws. "Just tell her the truth. You agreed to meet Lila at the park around that time so the two of you could go on to the college library --- this one's closed during summer, of course --- to meet with me for our group project.  
"Oh, by the way you two, our next meeting for this project will be at the college library at 3:00."  
Phoebe and Lila thought about what Brainy had said, then they too smiled as they realized that it would be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well, almost.  
Phoebe continued to read: "'2. Bring peace to her family'. Well, if this project succeeds..." She looked up at Brainy, who nodded. Then, back to the list. "'3. Peer pressure, male (Harold)'." Again she looked at Brainy, more questions in her face.  
"I figure that if Harold would stop picking on her, the other guys would follow suit. Plus, Helga only became a bully to stop 'pink boy' from laughing at her."  
As if following a script, Phoebe again nodded, then returned to the list. "'4. Peer pressure, female (Rhonda)'." Again the curious looks.  
And again the answer. "What Harold is to the male peer element, Rhonda is to the female peer element. Only Arnold and Helga can hold their own against them, and we have to make sure that Helga has the will to do so without resorting to bullying."  
  
"I see," said Phoebe, "so what's next?"  
Brainy pulled out another sheet of paper. "Next, we will have to make sure of anyone else who might know of Helga's feelings for Arnold."  
Phoebe gasped. "Who else could possibly know?"  
Brainy held up the second sheet of paper. "I have a short list right here; please don't pull this one away, Phoebe."  
"Very funny."  
Brainy read the names. "The others who might know, in reverse alphabetical order according to first names, are Tish Wittenberg, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, and Patty Smith."  
"What about Patty Smith?"  
Brainy's face shot up, finding himself staring straight into the eyes of the owner of the last name he'd read. Patty had walked up between Phoebe and Lila, who hadn't noticed her, so intent had they been on the conversation.  
"Patty, what are you doing here?" Lila asked.  
"I work here," Patty responded, gesturing to the library cart she had been pushing down that aisle. "What about Patty Smith?"  
Brainy tried to bluff. "wheeze wheeze uh, something?"  
Patty pointed at Brainy, leaning across the table and almost getting in his face in that way bullies do. "I heard you. You were speaking intelligently, and you mentioned my name. What about Patty Smith?"  
Brainy was scared, his eyes darting from side to side, as if to convey that he didn't want his competence to become public knowledge just yet.  
Patty could get messages just as well as she could give, and considering how good she was at giving messages for others to get that's saying something. "Look around; we have bookshelves on either side of us, and we're in the middle of a long aisle. If anyone shows up at either end, the first thing they'll see will be me having a 'discussion' with someone; they won't venture further."  
"Bullying has its privileges?" Phoebe ventured timidly.  
Patty nodded, then her scowl-ridden gaze shifted back to Brainy. "What about Patty Smith?"  
Brainy gave up, but he tried another dodge. "Well, what about Patty Smyth? Lead singer of Scandal, also had a solo career, married to John McEnroe...?"  
There are those who can intimidate merely by exhaling. Patty was one of those. No words were needed as Brainy gave in.  
"All right, since you heard me mention you it's only fair. There's something that only a few people know, those at this table. There are a few others who might know it, and you are one of them."  
"Well, what is it?"  
"Well, you see, that's the trouble, Patty," Lila said. "If we tell you, and it turns out that you don't know..." She didn't finish the sentence, figuring Patty would grasp the meaning. She was right.  
Patty was silent. Then she followed Brainy's gaze to the stacks, and what was on the other side of them. Her brow furrowed with thought, then cleared. "Is this about Helga's big crush on Arnold?"  
Shock now reigned, again, this time in three parts. "However did you find out?" asked Lila.  
"I figured it out when I had that run-in with Helga. Arnold went to bat for her, and she was impressed. I asked her if she liked him. She denied it, a little too quickly to be honest. She even smiled when I said he was cute. We understood each other. So, do you need any help?"  
Phoebe explained, "Um, well, we can't have any help, not yet anyway. What we're doing now is part of a class project and..."  
"Oh yeah, Harold was complaining about that just now. I understand."  
But now Brainy found his voice. "Maybe after this project is done, you can help with another part."  
Patty smiled, "Let me know." then she left in the opposite direction from which she'd come, occasionally putting a book on a shelf from the cart she continued to push.  
Before she turned the corner, she looked back at them. "By the way, the library's closing in ten minutes. You might want to get your stuff together."  
Without waiting for an answer, she was off again.  
  
With her gone, the three at the table simultaneously exhaled.  
"What did you mean, telling her she could help later?" Phoebe wanted to know.  
"It's called having an ace in reserve. You never know what could come up. Anyway, I said 'maybe'.  
"So," Brainy continued, "that just leaves Rhonda and Coach Wittenburg female. Since Patty was talking to me as much as to anyone, could you..."  
"I'll talk to Rhonda." Lila volunteered.  
"And I'll talk with Coach Wittenburg, female." finished Phoebe.  
"Excellent. Things are coming along good so far."  
  
RRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Well, Patty warned us." said Brainy, gathering his things.  
"Not so fast." said Phoebe. "You owe us an explanation, and I told you that you weren't leaving until we got it!"  
Brainy hesitated, then sighed. He knew this was coming. "All right, fire away."  
"For starters, who ARE you? I mean, you're always in the background, when you're there at all. You never say anything to anyone, and here you are taking charge of this project, all your idea. You've said it yourself, you're a cipher and you like it that way; yet here you are full of poise and confidence--"  
"No I'm not." Suddenly Brainy looked & sounded emotionally fragile, his confidence gone. "You have no idea of the torture I'm putting myself through to do this, what it's doing to me. I'm having to call on all of the inner strength I can muster, and I wouldn't even have that were it not for Dr. Bliss. I'm really a very shy person, but this is something that has to be done."  
"And that brings up the main point; why are you doing this? This is more than a class project to you; why are you doing this for Helga? Why is it so important to you? What's your deal?"  
Behind his glasses, Brainy's eyes misted. "'What's your deal?' That's exactly what she said." he murmured. "Hanging around her is doing you good; some of her assertiveness is rubbing off on you."  
After what had already transpired since the movie, Phoebe thought that nothing more could surprise her; but she was proven wrong once again as she looked on something she didn't expect. It looked to her like Brainy was about to cry.  
After yet another uncomfortable interval of silence, the dam broke, but not the one in his eyes.  
"You really want to know? I'll tell you. I can boil it down to three words: I. love. Helga."  
That did it. The coup de grace of all of the many shocks Phoebe had experienced that day. The will to stand left her as she sat on her seat on the floor, now officially completely numb.  
  
Brainy continued, his face now marked with the anguish he had been hiding.  
"I've been in love with her as long as she's been in love with Arnold, the very same day, and just as much. You asked me why I kept sneaking up behind her; it was to tell her of my feelings. Every time I'd see her go off alone, I'd follow. I've followed her everywhere, tailed her every place, been absolutely obsessed with her. Even as I'd approach her --- always from the back; I'm afraid to face her --- I'd hear her rhapsodize on her love for 'the football-headed love god'. But I didn't care; I had to tell her I loved her. But every time, my excitement took control of me. I'd breath too loud, and before I could get a hold of myself it was Ole Betsy. But I didn't care; I'd try again I loved her that much. And I still love her...,"  
Here he had to pause to compose himself, even help himself to his tissues, finishing the last package, "...but I've had to face the hardest truth of my life; that no matter how much I love her, she'll never love me back. It's taken me a year and a half of therapy to realize and accept this, that she'll never be mine, that the girl I love more than life itself will never love me.  
"But I determined one thing: that if I couldn't have what I wanted, I could at least help her to get what she wants: the love of Arnold. And I hope he comes to appreciate her as much as I would have. Maybe then, I can finally make peace with my feelings. Maybe when I see her with him, it will finally sink in that I should let go of, of...," he was barely hanging on, "...of what I had never had in the first place."  
  
He was literally finished, spent mentally and emotionally. The tears now started to come in earnest.  
Before the others could see him bawl like a baby, Brainy moved to leave. Numb Phoebe offered no resistance. And why would she have; she'd gotten what she'd asked for.  
Brainy almost broke into a run, not wanting anyone to see him cry. But before he was out of earshot, he stopped. "Lila?" he asked, raggedly.  
Lila hadn't known what to say in the entire previous exchange, so she'd kept quiet. She now stood next to an almost recumbent Phoebe, attempting to help her up. "Yes, Brainy?"  
"I'm not sure if Phoebe should be left alone right now; she's been through a lot. Could you stay with her until she recovers?" Lila could hear both the laughter and the tears in his rough voice.  
"Of course, Brainy. Will you be all right?"  
"Sure." And with not another word, Brainy left, now at a full run.  
After a bit of a struggle, Lila succeeded in raising Phoebe into a chair.  
  
At that moment Patty passed them, on her way out. "The library's closed now." Then she noticed Phoebe's condition. "What's wrong with her?"  
"I'm oh so certain that she's just had the shock of her life."  
Patty looked around, with her eyes but not her head. "Brainy?"  
Lila nodded. "It was ever so surprising to hear him speak in the first place, but what followed was ever so far past the realm of surprise."  
  
"Well, we'd better get her outside." And with that, she lifted Phoebe to a standing position and walked her out, Lila doing what she could to help.  
Halfway off the school grounds, Phoebe started to recover. By the time they reached the bus stop, she was again in control of herself, coherent even.  
"Did, did I just hear what I thought I just heard?"  
"I'm oh so certain you did."  
"Are you two going to be all right?"  
"I'm ever so certain we will now, Patty. Thank you for asking, and for your help."  
"You're welcome. I have to go now; Harold's picking me up."  
"All right, Patty. Good bye, and thanks again."  
That was the last of the conversation to which Patty was a party; she left with those words.  
Momentarily, the bus came. Lila didn't know if Phoebe would need help. It happened that she didn't; as soon as they stepped onto the bus she waved off Lila's offer of help.  
They took their usual seats, Phoebe's next to Helga. Neither was inclined to say anything; their thoughts were so full of the events of the day, the most earth-shattering day Lila had experienced since that last dark day in Pleasantville, the most jarring day Phoebe had experienced in her life.  
Helga didn't say anything either; the entire bus was quiet, extraordinarily so for the last day of school. The project had effected everyone. And the effects were only beginning.  
  
There will be more soon. First Phoebe and Lila have to talk with two other people, and then, the party.  
As always, please read & review. And as always, I'm Nftnat. On e- mail, I'm still nftnataol.com On IM, I'm still Nftnat. Cy'all. 


	7. Rounding Up the Unusual Suspects

Here's Chapter 7. It turned out to have more than I thought it would, so the party will have to wait until next time. Sorry, n8.  
Speaking of n8, thanks for the reviews. The same goes for JESS and Dramagirl310. J.T., you caught my drift, although it hadn't occurred to me that Helga knew Brainy loves her. It makes sense, though. Houkanno Yuuhou, you have a point there. And a big arigato for your help with the Japanese. And yes, I knew that. Starry Nights, that was my intention. Everyone, please r&r. Thank y'all.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, & / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom.  
  
Lila sat in her seat on the bus, going over the sheet of paper she'd gotten from Brainy. When he'd mentioned others who might know "the secret", he'd also displayed these collections of factoids, one for each suspect with the reasons thereto outlined. He then supplied her and Phoebe with their own copies.  
It took her five minutes to familiarize herself with Brainy's reasons for suspecting that Rhonda knew. That done, she settled back in her seat and waited for Rhonda's stop.  
As she waited, the events of the day continued to plague her mind. Brainy loved Helga, but he was willing to sacrifice his chance at happiness to get Helga with Arnold. He even lobbied her (Lila), successfully, to give Arnold the final heave-ho. Such nobility, it boggled the mind.  
  
She was shaken out of her reverie when the bus came to a stop, and she noticed Rhonda and Nadine moving toward the doors; she left her seat and fell in behind them.  
This might well be worth a look from the curious, as it wasn't her usual stop by any means; and she wondered if anyone would notice. No one did, which when she considered the matter was no surprise. The day had to her been a glittering testament to the denseness of people in general.  
But Rhonda had noticed. She turned around to face Lila by the time the latter had reached the ground and the bus had left her behind.  
"Lila, what are you doing here? This isn't your stop."  
"Well, I'm ever so certain that there's a matter I needed to talk with you about. I wondered if I could have a moment of your time?"  
"Hmm. Well, why not? Come on then."  
And so Lila followed on, falling in step behind Rhonda along with Nadine, who regarded her with not a little curiosity. Lila didn't return the gaze.  
Something fell from Rhonda. Before Nadine could, Lila picked it up. "Rhonda, you dropped this..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell on what appeared to be a book of tickets. As Rhonda accepted it, she could see the questions in Lila's eyes.  
"What, you thought I was kidding about being with the Fashion Police?"  
And with that, they resumed walking. Not another word was said.  
  
As they walked through Rhonda's front door, Lila noticed the building. From the front, it looked like any other apartment building on the street, this one in red brick. Only this "apartment building" belonged to one family, the Lloyd's. It didn't have the acreage of your typical mansion, but it did have the square footage, redistributed over the many floors. The back was quite different from the other buildings; it looked out over the rich part of town. Equipped with a verandah, a staircase leading downward to a garden, and any other amenity the owners and decorators could think of; it was truly a testament to the intelligent and aesthetically-based application of wealth.  
  
Nadine excused herself to go upstairs, as Rhonda escorted Lila through the house to the verandah.  
"I hadn't noticed before how ever so nice this house is, Rhonda."  
A smug self-satisfied smile came to Rhonda's face in acknowledgment of Lila's compliment. "Thank you. Can you believe Peapod's dad wanted to turn the place into condos?" It was a rhetorical question, the type that needed no answer, so Lila offered none.  
Having exited the rear of the house, Rhonda offered Lila a seat at the small table to one side of the sliding glass doors, then seated herself.  
Lila began the conversation; apparently, she had taken notes from Brainy's conversational style of that day. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything, like the group project?"  
Rhonda frowned on being reminded of that. "First, would I be able to tell you if you were? And second, do you see Sid around here, who is on the project with Nadine and me as you know?"  
"No, and no. So does that mean yes?"  
"What?"  
"Well, I'm ever so certain that was a double negative, which would mean a positive."  
Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Fine time to start applying Math and English classes to life. To answer your question, no, which would make three negatives, which still means no. So are you going to get to why you're here?"  
Lila giggled nervously. "I'm ever so sorry about that, but after what I've been through today I needed a laugh."  
"The project?" Rhonda asked sympathetically.  
"Y-yes," Lila answered after a few split seconds of contemplation; after all, Brainy's actions were connected with the project.  
Rhonda nodded. "Yeah, I've noticed it's getting to all of us; even Helga and Harold were quiet on the bus. I wouldn't have expected Simmons to dump something like this in our laps."  
"Well, I'm oh so certain that Nadine will have a good idea or two."  
"Yeah, and since Helga's in the same group with Arnold, again, she has it made this time. So what's on your mind?"  
"Well, it's interesting that you would mention Arnold; actually, this is about him."  
"You changed your mind about him again?"  
"Um, no."  
"You're sure? You know, I was always on your side when it came to him."  
"No. I've never been more certain that I only like him, not like him like him."  
"Pity. You two were the perfect couple, while you lasted."  
"Well, thank you." Lila hesitated, then plowed ahead with what she had to do.  
  
"I was thinking about something that happened a couple of years ago. Do you remember that paper marriage game you had?"  
Chuckles came to Rhonda's mouth at that particular memory. "That old thing? Oh, man, it's been so many months since I even thought about it! What, did you change your mind about playing it?"  
"Well, no." "Good; I hope you didn't take it seriously. It's just a game; I wrote everything on that piece of paper, ran the whole thing myself. I even said the next day that all results were null and void."  
"No, it's not that. I was just curious as to why you rigged it to have Arnold end up with Helga no matter what he picked."  
Rhonda laughed again, an actual belly laugh, holding her stomach and everything. "Oh, hoho, I didn't think anyone would ever ask me about that!" A fresh round of giggles and guffaws ensued; Lila waited patiently for the paroxysms to end. It was actually quite interesting to see Rhonda in this frame of mood; it was the happiest she'd ever seen her. Finally, Rhonda settled down enough to attempt an answer. She leaned over the table as if to impart a secret of a level akin to national security. A finger beckoned Lila until her face was inches from Rhonda's. "Can you keep a secret?"  
"Better than you can."  
"We'll see. Well, the thing is," Here Rhonda did one of those last second checks people always do just before telling something they shouldn't even know. When her head returned to its former position she opened her mouth and the words came out in a whisper. "I just happen to know that Helga has this huge crush on Arnold."  
Lila's mouth fell onto the table, so to speak. When she composed herself, she proceeded to put Rhonda through the wringer, so to speak. Or that's what it would have been called if the questioner hadn't been ever so nice and sweet. "What makes you think this?"  
"Oh, girl, I know it; there's no doubt about it. Do you remember the Romeo & Juliet play?"  
Lila nodded.  
"That's when I started to put the pieces together. You remember that you and I tried out for Juliet, as did Sheena and Phoebe."  
Another nod.  
"Well, if you'll remember Helga wasn't interested in the play in the slightest. It wasn't until after the roles were assigned that she was so on fire to be Juliet. Do you remember what happened just before that?"  
This time Lila's head shook no.  
"Simmons got Arnold to play Romeo. Next thing you know, Helga wanted to be Juliet."  
"Well, couldn't that have been just a coincidence?"  
"It could have been; I wouldn't have thought anything of it if it hadn't been for all the things that happened afterward. Here's the setup: I have the role, after that the order of understudies is Sheena, Phoebe, you, and last, Helga. Four others in between her and getting the role. Impossible, right?"  
nod  
"Well, never say 'impossible' when Helga Pataki's involved. The first thing that I hear after getting the role was that she was the costume designer. That night she shows up here with the ugliest excuse for a garment I have ever seen! It was, oh, I can't even begin to describe it, it's like a tornado was set loose in a room full of quilting scraps, which were then vomited on! Imagine my chagrin when she told me I was to wear it in the play, in front of everyone! Well! There was no way I was even going to get close to that hideous monstrosity! And then Helga started handing me this line that Simmons had made it himself, that he had his heart set on Juliet wearing it, and on and on. It was where the only way I could get out of it was to either tell Simmons to his face that the dress he'd made really bit as Stinky would say, or drop out of the play."  
"So you chose to drop out."  
"You weren't here when we gave Simmons the treatment; seeing him cry is not a pretty sight."  
"Wait a minute; I remember when you dropped out. You said you were doing it for religious reasons."  
"I wasn't lying. Style and fashion is my religion. My Holy Trinity is Yves St. Laurent, Coco Chanel, and Christian Dior. You see, for me, the sight of that dress was the equivalent of that crucifix in urine. And to even think about wearing it would be utter sacrilege, bleh! it's blasphemy just talking about it!"  
"So you dropped out. Which meant Sheena got the part."  
"And she didn't last an hour. As soon as I dropped out, I tried to see her. Eugene told me that Helga had come into the dressing room and shooed him out. And before my eyes, the door opened, and out Sheena came, white as a sheet; the next day she dropped out. The kicker was when I heard that Helga had resigned as costume designer and Sheena took that job, starting with Juliet's dress! So much for not wanting to hurt Mr. Simmons, huh?"  
"So the next one to get it was Phoebe."  
"Right, her best friend. Helga probably had no problem there; she can talk Phoebe into pretty much anything, or haven't you noticed."  
"Yes, I'd noticed."  
"So she opts to be the stage manager. Which brings us to you. How did Helga get you to step aside anyway?"  
Memories of Helga's confession washed over her for the second time that day, along with thoughts of strangulation. "Well, I promised not to tell."  
"I see; she scared it out of you, huh?"  
"I, I'm ever so certain I'm not at liberty to say."  
"No doubt she threatened to stick a tree in your ear or something, like that girl in that Christmas play."  
"What?"  
"Never mind. Anyway, for whatever reason, you too step aside, which means that Helga has it all to herself."  
"And according to your theory, she did it to..."  
"To get to kiss Arnold of course!"  
"You're certain?"  
"I wasn't, until the time came for, The Kiss. And what a kiss! We were all, well, you were there, in the seat behind me, you saw it."  
"Yes."  
"It even brought that critic Leichliter to tears, and a school play does not do that, not to a jaded critic who's seen it all. And then there was the length of that kiss. Sid timed it; he said it lasted 15 whole seconds! If that was just acting, Helga should definitely take up acting as a career, because I could feel the heat all the way up in the audience."  
  
Lila didn't let it show, but she was deflated. Rhonda had made a knock-down argument, as they used to say, a lead pipe cinch. She couldn't deny any of it, even if she hadn't known that the thrust of Rhonda's argument was indeed the case. But one thing still puzzled her.  
"Um, Rhonda, if you knew of Helga's feelings for Arnold all this time, why haven't you told anyone?"  
"What, and miss the best show in town? You just haven't noticed all the lengths Helga goes to to either tell him or keep it a secret or both; it's hilarious! Better than any movie."  
"So you have no intention of telling?"  
"Oh, no, it's too much fun watching the Helga and Arnold show. I might spice things up now and then --- like that game you mentioned, or that time she got amnesia and I took the opportunity to flirt with him right in front of her --- but let it out? No, not any time soon. That party of mine she came to dressed as you? That alone was worth keeping the secret. Oh, by the way, she's jealous of you."  
"Oh, I, I'm ever so flattered, I think."  
"No kidding, you'll have to watch what's going on sometime. It's just like watching 'Yo Ernest!', except there's no one here like that shallow fashion maven Rita."  
The irony of that statement was lost on Lila, who was not really a 'Yo Ernest!' fan. "Well, you answered all of my questions. I suppose I should be on my way."  
"Oh, there's no need to go so soon."  
"No, really, I have to get ready for Arnold's birthday party."  
"Oh yeah. Have you gotten your present for him yet?"  
"No, but I know exactly what it is."  
"Well, there's that at least."  
"And you need to get upstairs. I'm sure Nadine--"  
"Oh yeah. I'd forgotten."  
"Not something you want to do to your best friend."  
"Right. Well, can you see yourself out?"  
"I'm ever so certain I can."  
So ended the conversation on the verandah. Rhonda ran upstairs while Lila retraced her steps through the Lloyd "mansion" and on out to the street.  
She continued home on foot. She would have done that even if she hadn't had a stop to make on the way; she had a lot to think about. That stop was Gamma-Lot Records, where she made a purchase. That done, she walked the remaining blocks, to the building where she lived, in utter silence; the events of the day made things sufficiently loud inside her head without any contributions from the exterior. With Rhonda's bombshell on top of the many Brainy had visited on her, she found herself wondering how it was she was still in her right mind. Brainy, intelligent, and with a quixotic streak yet? Rhonda, refusing to gossip, albeit for her own twisted reasons? As she approached her residence, she shook her head to clear it of the day's events; her gaze fell on the sack in her hand and the contents thereof. She was reminded of what she had to do, tomorrow and the next day. Back in her room, she emptied the sack and held up the contents thereof.  
"I just hope he doesn't hate it after Sunday."  
  
Meanwhile, Phoebe's day was continuing, for lack of another word to describe it. As she sat on the bus, next to Helga, only part of her mind was functioning. Distantly, she heard discussion of a group project meeting.  
"So where should we meet to discuss it?"  
"Not at my house, unless you want to risk run-ins with my brother & sister, enough said?"  
"And there's no way anything's getting done at my house with Ol-ga there."  
"So I guess it's the boarding house."  
"Looks like, my man."  
"Okkay then, we'll all get off there."  
The conversation faded at that point; Phoebe's mind was not on it, or on anything for that matter.  
Before that day, her thoughts had been mostly on Helga, Gerald, & her studies, not necessarily in that order. Now her thoughts... it was like her brain was trying to play ping-pong in a cold cream-of-wheat sea. Nothing made sense anymore. She was getting along with Lila, Brainy had a brain and a voice, the secret was out, Lila knew, Brainy knew, Patty knew, Rhonda maybe knew, Lila would help, Brainy loved Helga like Helga loved Arnold, what next?  
"So, guess we'll have to wait on that other thing, huh Arnold?"  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
Huh? What were Gerald and Arnold talking about? (and why was she only paying attention now?) She looked to her side, where Helga was staring out the window, or writing in a little pink book; it was a toss-up. Then a peek at the seat ahead. There it was, spread out on Arnold's lap.  
Who wrote the Little Pink Book?  
WHAT?!?!? sigh, she had to ask.  
"SOB!" Her head crashed down on her crossed arms.  
"Phoebe?"  
Her head went back up, eyes locking with another pair of eyes. A concerned pair of eyes. And they were neither blue nor green.  
"Gerald?"  
"Are you all right?"  
"umm, well..."  
"Project blues?"  
"mm-hmm", she managed to whimper.  
"Aw, man! We gotta have a word with Simmons next time we see him. Hey Arnold, would you mind switching seats with Phoebe?"  
"Uh, okkay Gerald."  
She felt Gerald's arms around her, guiding her out of her seat. Then she was up, Arnold sliding past her. A little movement, and she was again sitting, in a different seat.  
"Hey Helga, do you have any idea of what's bugging Phoebe?"  
"Uh,... hmm?"  
She was conscious of Gerald hugging her, and then the tenuous link between her mind and the outside world again disconnected.  
Again, her thoughts were water polo ponies in a lake of porridge. And part of her knew that made no sense whatsoever; that was the point.  
She was being guided again, into a familiar house, her house. Gerald was still there, guiding her.  
"Phoebe? What happened?"  
"I don't know, Mrs. Heyerdahl. We all got this project for summer dumped on us today, and I guess she's taking it a bit hard."  
"Oh dear. Gotta get you to bed right away; a good nap will probably settle things. Thanks for bringing her home, Gerald."  
"You're welcome", she faintly hears; now her mother is guiding her, to her room, to her bed, on to the bed.  
"Sleep well, Phoebe. Feel better now, y'hear?"  
Lips on her forehead. A warm hand on her forehead, brushing aside stray hairs, removing her glasses, which clatter on the end table by her bed, footsteps. Lights out, more footsteps. A door closes. The footsteps, now muffled, fade.  
Darkness.  
Sleep. Blissful sleep, yes, it will settle all of the things her mind is having trouble reconciling. Sleep....  
  
Eyes open to darkness, to a dark room, her room. A hand snakes out from under the covers; where are those glasses? Ah! There's the familiar hard, cool feel of glass and framework. Soon, they're on her face, she can see better. But not much; it's the light, or lack thereof. It's, it's, it's not dark, but it's evening. Where's that clock? Ah! Almost 5:00, still time to, to...  
She sinks onto the bed. Was it all a dream?  
Wait, where's her things from school. She walks to her desk, turns on the lamp. There they are. Hands rummage through the papers, looking, looking...  
There.  
"Pay It On Ahead to the Front" So that much was real.  
Another paper.  
"Obstacles to be removed in order to bring Arnold and Helga together" So that was real.  
And another one, outlining reasons why Coach Wittenberg female might know The Secret.  
It was real, then, all of it. It must have been; there was the proof in her hands. She couldn't make up stuff like this; she was no writer --- she'd proven that during that poetry contest. It must be. Brainy & Lila knew, they were going to help her help Helga with her family, with Arnold. And Brainy was in love with Helga.  
Another look at the clock. 5:00 straight up now. It was getting too dark to go traveling through town, but she could find out what she needed to know by phone.  
To the door, hand on the knob, twist, through the door...  
"Phoebe?"  
ulp! "Yes, Father?"  
"Phoebe, how are you? Your mother said you were barely conscious when you came in from school."  
"I'm, fine, Father. I just needed a nap; I'm fine now."  
"Phoebe?" The other parent. "Oh, Phoebe, you look much better now. I knew it; all you needed was an hour or so of sleep. Nothing like sleep to settle the mind and the nerves. Are you going to be up to having supper with us?"  
"Yes, Mother. I just need to call someone first."  
"All right." Another kiss on the forehead. "Just remember to wash up as soon as you make your call."  
"Yes, Mother."  
Strong hands grasp her arms lovingly. She looks into a wise, kind, trusted face. "Daijoba desuka, aishite amasu."  
A weak smile. "Arigato."  
Hug.  
He leaves the room, as had the other parent a moment earlier.  
To the phone.  
Phone book, under "W". Let's see, Wilkins, Williams, turn the page. Williamson, Wilson, Winfield, Wise, Witchard, Withem, Withers, Witherspoon, Wittmer, Witt, Witten, Wittenauer, ah! There we are; Wittenberg, Jack & Wittenberg, Tish. Hmm, two entries for the same phone number; well, guess it's a mark of them both being competitive.  
Lift the receiver, punch the buttons, wait.  
ring ring ring click  
"Hello?" a young male voice says.  
"Hello. I'm calling for Coach Wittenberg."  
"Male or female?"  
"Female."  
"Just a minute."  
a minute  
"Hello?"  
"Coach Wittenberg?"  
"Yes. Who is this?"  
"Phoebe Heyerdahl. Was that your son I just talked with?"  
"Yes, that was Tucker."  
"Hmm. I've heard of him, but I've never seen him around school."  
"He goes to boarding school, in Arizona, for his health. But the Coach & I have our jobs here --- well, I do more than he does --- and we're not finding any openings there. Concertedly, we and our son have to live apart from each other. Wait a minute, why am I telling you all this? You just called me on the phone and I've never met you before."  
"Well, you would know my best friend, Helga Pataki."  
"Oh, you're Helga's friend."  
"Yes. That time you married the Coach--"  
"Which time?"  
"The second."  
"Oh, of course; the first was probably before your time."  
"Yes. You might have seen me there next to Helga, watching the air hockey match?"  
"Hmm, wait, shorter than Helga, quiet, dark hair, glasses, Asiatic features, yellow scrunchie, kind of a blue gray ensemble?"  
"That's me."  
"Yeah, I remember you. You ever been on any of my teams?"  
"Um, well, no."  
"Why not?"  
"Well, I'm not really the athletic type."  
"Oh, come on, there must be something athletic you do well."  
"Well, I've been fencing for years."  
"Fencing, huh? Well, I don't know anything about it, but that never stopped the Coach. But I don't think you called just to give me suffusions as to possible future coaching endeavors."  
"Oh, sorry. I was just wondering why you chose Helga to be your maid of honor."  
"Like I told her, she was captain of my bowling team, and my cousin Carnie was out of town."  
"Did it have something to do with Arnold being the Coach's best man?"  
  
"Ah, Arnold. Y'know, he's the best thing to ever happen to the Coach. If there was an Arnold on every team he ever coached, his teams would be unflappable. They would be juggernauts, comprehensively, and abhorrently. And yeah, I did think it would look cute, the two of them walking down the aisle together. I think Helga kinda has a thing for him."  
"Really?"  
"Well, I'm not sure, but I was the same way when I was her age."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah, I really liked the Coach, but I was too shy to let him know it, so I covered it up by teasing him, picking on him, goofing on him every chance I got, you know?"  
"Mm-hmm."  
"Yeah, and I've seen her doing the same thing to that Arnold kid. If you ask me they'd be great together. If she'd only let herself she'd feel all goofy over him, just like I feel goofy over the Coach."  
"I see."  
"Is that what you wanted to know?"  
"Um, yeah."  
"Why?"  
"Um, it's part of a group project, and I can't say any more about it than that."  
"Oh, um, well, I hope I was able to help you."  
"Oh, you were, you were."  
"That's good. Hey, sometime why don't you call back and tell me what this was all about?"  
"I, I'll think about it, Coach."  
"Okkay, you take care of yourself. And keep up that fencing; everyone needs something to keep 'em busy, y'know?"  
"Right. I'll do that. Good-bye, Coach."  
"Good-bye Phoebe."  
click  
Well, that's done. Time to start thinking about Arnold's birthday tomorrow. Not that she hadn't before; she already had his present wrapped. It's appropriate, but knowing Arnold, he won't get the point. He's so dense. Oh well, her best friend loves him, and she likes his best friend. Could it be like-like? Hmm...  
"Phoebe, supper time."  
"Coming, mother."  
And it was off to the bathroom to wash her hands, then to the dining room. After supper, she'd call Helga, who had also been a bit out of sorts on the bus. Then to bed, and tomorrow, the party.  
  
translations: daijoba desuka, aishite amasu --- I love you, you're all right  
" arigato --- thank you  
Again, thank you, Houkanno Yuuhou.  
  
Well, that left me pretty much wiped; but no fear. I will have Chapter 8 up before the end of the week, I think. What happened in this chapter is bizarre now that I look back on it. I had intended for Rhonda to know and to explain how she knows and why she doesn't tell to Lila, and maybe to Phoebe; but as for the other part, well... I hadn't planned to write that part, but after Phoebe's breakdown in Chapter 6 I had to try to tie off that loose end, and one thing led to another, and next thing I knew, I had a searing look inside her mind. Currently I am planning something similar for Lila, which came about because of this. That'll be in a few chapters and will take place on Sunday (man, these days go by at a snail's pace, don't they?). Anyway, the party's next. Please r&r. I'm Nftnat. On e-mail I'm nftnataol.com On IM I'm Nftnat. Cy'all around. 


	8. Happy Birthday Arnold

Well, here it is, the party episode for which you've been waiting. I hope y'all aren't too disappointed in this chapter, because I am. In my opinion it kind of bites, but y'all might disagree, which would please me no end.  
  
Thanks for the reviews, y'all.  
Starry Nights, I'm glad you liked the Rhonda part; she rubs it in a bit more here. Phoebe has dealt with the emotional baggage. Imo the project wasn't really that bad; it was just a scapegoat. Put yourself in her place; you suddenly get intelligent conversation from someone you wouldn't have given credit for even being verbal. Said someone knows the innermost secret of your best friend and is going to do something about it, even though he's in love with her. That would be a lot for anyone to absorb. Then the note indicating someone's toying with Arnold & Helga, well! But by now I have ideas about the other group projects and we will see how it goes.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, Arnold & Gerald's side project is just starting; I'm planning on making it like water torture, but who knows what could happen. And I've noticed other fics where someone was watching 'Yo Ernest!' And not noticing the resemblance (personally I've never seen the show on any of the 80 plus episodes of HA! I've seen, but maybe it's on one of the episodes I've missed).  
Draco's Angels, I continue to appreciate your insights. You're right; it will last quite a while, at least a year. But it won't be several chapters to the day. And there is more to Brainy, stuff I have yet to uncover. I appreciate your and HY's recommendation; as soon as I finish this I will submit it to Kim's site and I hope she likes it.  
n8, here's the party already.  
Horseamew, Dramagirl310, thank you two too.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. "Silence Is Golden" is from the Tremeloes' record Chip, Dave, Alan and Rick (CBS Columbia / Epic 1967). "Mind Your Own Business" was written by Hank Williams Sr. and was a hit by him on the MGM label in 1949. His son Hank Jr. also had a hit with it on Montana Cafe (Warner 1986). Clue is owned by Milton Bradley, I think. The Riverside Shakespeare is copyrighted 1974 by Houghton Mifflin. Tell Me On a Sunday, the musical written by Don Black and composed by and performed under the direction of Andrew Lloyd Webber (the Dino Spumoni & Don Reynolds of the theater if you ask me) was originally performed on BBC in January 1980. I have no idea who has the copyright on that.  
  
It is early Saturday morning. Normally at this time, Gerald Johansen would be sleeping in; but then, this is no ordinary Saturday morning; it's the morning of his best friend's birthday.  
"'M'I the first to wish you happy birthday?"  
"No, Grandpa & the boarders beat you to it. Oskar seemed to think I should be giving presents instead of getting them."  
"Specifically to him, right?"  
"Yes."  
Gerald didn't say a word to this; he just looked at his friend. Arnold knew what he was thinking.  
"It's going to work, Gerald. You'll see."  
"You're a bold kid, Arnold. So anyway, is this a good time to work in that other thing, or do you have chores to do?"  
"Not on my birthday, usually."  
"Usually?"  
"Well, with Grandma you never know."  
"Kimba, is that Colonel Binghamton I heard come in?"  
"Yes, Grandma. We have a project we're working on upstairs."  
"So do I; it's called Thanksgiving dinner. We'll have too many guests to celebrate around the table this year, so we'll have to do it on the roof."  
"I'll be up to help you later, but right now we have to get started." And with that Arnold, with Gerald in tow, hotfooted it for his room.  
  
Once they entered, Arnold went for the remote. The appropriate buttons were pressed, lighting the room.  
"Good thing this is the alternate entrance to the roof, or there'd be people through here all day." said Gerald, gazing toward the steps up one side of Arnold's room to the window at the top of same which afforded access to the roof.  
"Tell me about it." Arnold agreed, as he crossed over to the spot where he kept the enigmatic little pink book. "Here it is."  
"Where's the note?"  
"On my desk, in front of the computer."  
"Oh yeah, here it is."  
"Let's get to work."  
After an hour of comparison to all of the signatures in the yearbooks, they were no closer to figuring out the authorship of the anonymous note than they had been before. The writing didn't seem to match that in the book or the signatures of any of their classmates.  
"Maybe we've been going at this all wrong, Gerald; maybe whoever wrote this wrote in a different hand or something. It could be that they didn't want to be identified."  
"I guess that's possible."  
knock knock knock "Kimba, I'll need your help in fifteen minutes."  
"Coming, Grandma."  
"Will the colonel be staying to help?"  
Gerald's head shakes desperately to the negative in response.  
"Um, no Grandma. The colonel has to return to headquarters, but he'll be back this afternoon."  
"whew, Thanks, man."  
"No problem."  
"Man! How do you put up with that all the time?"  
"Like I said, one gets used to it. And it's harmless; it's just a matter of humoring her. I don't mind; I owe her a lot."  
"Yeah, I guess. Well, catch you this afternoon."  
"You'll be here for the party."  
"I wouldn't miss it."  
And with that and a thumb wiggle, Gerald went downstairs, while Arnold went up to the roof to help his grandmother.  
  
Meanwhile, over the phone lines, a conversation was taking place, the second one between the parties involved in less than a day, the first one having been the night before. That one hadn't come to much; hence, part of the reason for this one.  
"Hello?"  
"Moshi moshi, Helga."  
"Uh, hi, Pheebs. It's a bit early, isn't it?"  
"Point taken. So, are you ready for Arnold's birthday party?"  
"Like I just said, it's a bit early yet."  
"Well, there's much to be said for getting things out of the way early so that you would have that much more free time later on."  
"Pheebs, we've talked about this before; you know I'm at my best under pressure."  
"Do you even have his birthday present?"  
"Sure. I have it right here in front of me." rrriiiippppp crinkle crinkle "You hear that? I'm wrapping it right now."  
"All right. I hope you got something good. Just because you can't let him know--"  
"Pheebs, don't worry about it. I got him something I think he can use."  
"As do I; although knowing him he won't fully appreciate the sentiment behind it."  
"Well, you have my curiosity up. What are you getting him?"  
"I'll tell you when you tell me what you're getting him."  
"Ooh, touche. So when do you want me to come by and get you?"  
"Er, actually, Gerald already asked to escort me there."  
"Ooh, Gerald, huh?"  
"Stop it."  
"Stopping." Helga sang in a good-natured jab at a certain habit of her best friend.  
"It's no big deal, really. It's just that this will be the first time I'll actually be inside the boarding house..."  
"But you were inside before, back when we were eating cereal so the Hair Boys could get that telescope."  
"Oh, yes. Be that as it may, my contact with the tenants has been limited to say the least, and Gerald wants to inform me about their idiosyncrasies."  
"Not to mention the idiosyncrasies of Arnold's grandparents."  
"Well, yes. Is there anything about them you want to tell me?"  
"Nah, why spoil it for Geraldo. So, I'll see you there, then."  
"Until this afternoon, then."  
  
BBOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!  
  
So commenced the party of the year, from the roof of the Sunset Arms Boarding House. True to the pre-party publicity, everyone showed up. There were enough people on the roof to violate a number of local codes and ordinances. The police might've been called had they not already been there, 'to keep an eye on things' as they said. Ditto the health and building inspectors. A spirit of charitableness was in the air, due partly to Grandma's 'confusion' over which holiday it was, and due partly to the guest of honor. Oh, the cause of that explosion? It's being dealt with now.  
  
"Pookie, lower that blunderbuss this instant!"  
"Of course, Dr. Robinson."  
"sigh Oh well, it could be worse. She could be dressing me like a turkey." Phil muttered under his breath. But not so under his breath that it escaped the ears of Arnold and Gerald.  
"Good thing she doesn't know about Simmons' turkey suit." Gerald muttered to his best friend.  
"Right." agreed Arnold. "So what happened when you and Phoebe came? I was up here and didn't see."  
"Well, I was telling her about your Grandma..."  
  
flashback  
  
It was a half hour ago. Our second-favorite couple was approaching Sunset Arms, and the male member of same was advising the female about certain oddities of the people they'd be meeting.  
"...so he'll give you an autograph for your mother if you ask him, but forget about getting him to sing in public; I know I've tried."  
"I see."  
"So have I left anyone out?"  
"I don't believe you've mentioned Arnold's grandmother yet."  
"Aw, man! I knew I was leaving someone out. Well, she's a character. There's times I wonder if she's in her right mind, but she's cool. And she can surprise you. One of the surprises, though, is what she might call you."  
"Meaning?"  
"Well, sometimes she'll call Arnold 'Kimba'--"  
"As in the lion?"  
"Right; I guess she thinks of him as a young lion."  
"Well, he does have the mane for it."  
"I guess. And I've also heard her call him 'Tex'. And she seems to think I'm some colonel named Binghamton. So it's anyone's guess what she'll call you."  
"I see. Well, here we are."  
"So we are." By then the two had reached the door of the boarding house. Before knocking, Gerald turned to Phoebe. "Now Phoebe, before we go in, I'll tell you what Arnold told me the first time I stayed the night here. At times the things you see may confuse or even frighten you, but just remember, everyone is essentially harmless."  
"Just knock, Gerald. I'm sure you're exaggerating."  
"That's what I thought at the time. And what Arnold said in response, word for word, was: 'you've been warned'." knock knock  
"Could someone get that?"  
"Hey, what do I look like, the doorman around here?"  
"You, Oskar, look like nothing! You do nothing!"  
"All right already, I'll get it! Of all of the..."  
The door opens, showing the diminutive Ernie Potts in pilgrim garb. His expression, in its usual stolid funk, became somewhat lighter when he saw Phoebe.  
"Oh, it's you! Say, have you thought about what I told you about a career in demolition?"  
"Oh!" Phoebe hadn't expected to see him here. "W-, well I, I, yes, yes I have, Mr. Potts. But this sort of decision can't be rushed, and I still have plenty of time yet to think about it."  
"Yeah, I understand. But you don't want to take too long; your first few years in the trade can be the best, and you don't want to waste them frettin' about a decision that should've already been made."  
"Yes, Mr. Potts. I will give the matter serious consideration."  
Satisfied, Ernie went elsewhere.  
"What was that about?" Gerald asked.  
"Remember career day?"  
"Yeah-- oh."  
"Precisely."  
Just then, Arnold's Grandma entered the room from the kitchen, attired in an outfit that would've done credit to Anne Bradstreet herself.  
"Oh, Colonel Binghamton, you're back. The feast will be held on the roof of the meeting house; we're having too many visitors for the congregation to meet inside."  
"Pookie, are you bothering Short Man's friends?"  
"Why Reverend Robinson, this is unexpected. We hadn't thought to see you again in this lifetime, certainly not in the Colonies. Please go upstairs; I'm sure your congregation will be overjoyed. I trust your voyage from Scrooby was uneventful?"  
Phil decided that any further attempts at conversation or even remonstration with Pookie would be pointless. And he didn't exactly want to engage in such anyway, so he went upstairs. Pookie returned her attention to Gerald. But before she said another word to him, she noticed Phoebe, and her eyes lit up.  
"And I see you've brought Lady Cavendish with you." Here, she bowed to Phoebe, who returned the favor.  
  
end flashback  
  
"Then what happened?"  
"I don't know; I was lost after 'konichiwa'."  
"They were speaking Japanese?"  
"Yeah, both of them! Man, I didn't know your Grandma knew Japanese!"  
"Me neither. Maybe she really did spend some time at a monastery in Tibet, or was it a convent in Shanghai."  
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised at anything I found out about her anymore."  
"That's what I keep thinking, just before she surprises me again."  
"There you two are! You can trade war stories later; it's time for the feast now. Come with me, John."  
"John?" Gerald mouthed at Arnold, who could only shrug in response.  
Sure enough, Pookie had chosen that moment to round up everyone for 'Thanksgiving'. Tables, heaped with food and surrounded by chairs, were in abundance on the roof. One of them had been designated the head table, the one toward which Pookie was marching the two young men. Some of the seats were already filled, but not the one next to Phoebe, and not the one next to Helga.  
"Colonel, your seat is next to that of Lady Cavendish of course. And Mr. Alden, you of course will sit next to Miss Mullins." Meaning Helga apparently, as it was toward the empty seat next to her that Arnold was now being guided. Helga might have been a bit embarrassed, but that was outweighed by her level of interest, of anticipation of what Pookie would do next. She didn't want to let on, but she was having a ball.  
  
One and a half hours later, the dinner had ended and the tables had been cleared away, except for the one where Arnold's presents had been gathered. With the roof basically cleared, the dance floor was open. Brainy was on the job as dj and people were out on the floor, having a good time.  
  
From over on the other side of the roof, Phoebe wandered over to where Brainy was holding court.  
"Um, Brainy, could I have a word with--"  
  
"How many times did she fall for his lies?  
Should I tell her, or should I be cool?  
And if I tried, I know she'll say I lie.  
Mind your business. Don't hurt her, you fool.  
buh-dum bum boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom BOOM!  
SILENCE IS GOLDEN,  
but my eyes still see.  
SILENCE IS GOLDEN, GOLDEN,  
but my eyes still see."  
  
The music went down at that point, and another tune came up, but Brainy's point had been made to Phoebe: he didn't want to talk about it right now. Phoebe returned to the table, where Arnold was in the process of unwrapping his presents.  
"It's, it's..."  
"It's a jar of pumpkin preserves."  
"Wow. Thanks, Stinky."  
"And there's more where that come from if'n you want it. I reckon I wouldn't have been interested in a-raisin' fruits and vegetables at all if it weren't for you."  
"It, it was no trouble, really."  
"Well, I figgered I owed ya anyway."  
"Well, like I said, thanks." sounds of unwrapping "Whoa! The Pentium 6 processor!"  
"I thought you'd like it, my man."  
"I do. Thanks, Gerald! I'll be able to triple the good I get out of my computer."  
"Yeah yeah. Just put it someplace safe, and we'll install it later."  
  
Before another word could be spoken, a disturbance arose from around the door. Arnold, as the "host", arose to see about it, and came face to face with Wolfgang and Ludwig.  
"Well, guess who didn't get an invitation to your party."  
"Everyone was invited, Wolfgang. I thought that was understood."  
"Guess there's a lot of things you don't understand."  
"Look, Ludwig, both of you are as welcome here as anyone. You missed dinner, but there's still plenty of cake and other refreshments. If you want to dance, feel free to do that too."  
He suddenly felt himself being lifted by two hands belonging to the two bullies.  
"Now what's going to stop us from causing a lot of damage around here, starting with you?"  
"You don't want to do that, Wolfgang."  
"Why not?"  
"Because if you do, he might not be able to call off the bouncers."  
That last voice was unexpected. Wolfgang and Ludwig, Arnold still in hands, turned to see who it was. It was Big Patty, flanked by Harold and Torvald.  
"Is there going to be a problem here?" she asked, her arms akimbo for maximum intimidation effect. The boy bullies had their arms crossed, also for full intimidation effect.  
"Uh, no, no problem at all. Why, I'm not looking for any problems, are you, Ludwig?"  
"No, Wolfgang, no problems at all."  
They had lowered Arnold on sighting the other bullies, bullies apparently on his side. With their hands now off of him, they backed toward the door --- where Stoop Kid was now standing. The bump, the turnaround, the shocked looks, and the hightailing to any refuge on the roof they could find. Only to run into Tommy and Burt, who were a year older than they. After that it was a matter of running scared, which scared them into behaving themselves, especially after they saw Mr. Packenham also among the guests.  
  
Arnold and Gerald, surprised to see Tommy and Burt coming down on their side, approached them to find out about their part in defusing the situation.  
"Thanks."  
"Eh, don't thank us. They're in the grade below us. We bug on them like they bug on you." said Burt.  
"Besides," said Tommy, "if you want to thank someone it should be our girlfriends." As he said this he pointed behind Arnold and Gerald, who turned around to find themselves face to face with--  
"Connie?"  
"Maria?"  
"Hey, chicky babies." Connie replied.  
"How are ya goofs doin'?" Maria smiled. "Look at 'em, Connie. Didn't we tell 'em that all the girls would be lookin' at 'em?"  
"We did." Connie agreed.  
"But, don't take this the wrong way, we still got a thing for Tommy and Burt."  
"Yeah, a thing."  
"Um, I'm not sure what just happened, but how can we thank you for whatever you had to do with it?"  
"You just did, Arnold."  
"Hey, Maria! Come over here!" It seems that by then Tommy and Burt had gone elsewhere.  
"Aw, forget you!" But their girlfriends had backbone; they weren't finished with Arnold and Gerald. After another kiss each, the girls turned serious.  
"Um, do you guys know Phoebe Heyerdahl?" Connie ventured.  
"Phoebe?" asked Gerald. "Well, yeah, she's a friend of ours."  
"Uh-oh." came back in stereo.  
"Well, could you tell her next time you see her we're sorry for what we put her through when she was in sixth grade with us?" Maria continued sadly.  
"You just did."  
Now it was the girls' turn to turn around; they found themselves face to face with Phoebe, who fortunately was smiling, indicating that all was forgiven.  
A hug took place to seal the deal, and then Connie and Maria went over to their boyfriends, talk-arguing the while as usual.  
A nudge from Gerald. "Come on, man. Let's go back and finish opening your presents."  
  
And so they did. Unobserved by them, Lila now took her turn to approach Brainy and try to initiate conversation with him.  
"Brainy, I--" but she met the same fate as Phoebe, this time courtesy of Ol' Hank and his son Bocephus.  
  
"WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS,  
(MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS)  
IF YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS,  
I'LL BE A-MINDIN' MINE."  
  
Point made. Lila turned, and took her gift with her to the table where once again the birthday boy was holding court.  
  
"Hey, look at this, Gerald. Gift certificates for Tildens, Hoskes, AND Budnicks!"  
"Of course, Arnold. Now you just take these, go to those stores and buy whatever you want. I've already spoken with the people in charge; you have carte blanche. Nothing's too good for you." It was Rhonda, the bearer of that last present. She was definitely flirting with him, again, which was causing Helga to do a slow burn, much to Rhonda's delight.  
"Um, thanks, Rhonda." More unwrapping, revealing what appeared to be a ticket. "'Certificate of Amnesty'?"  
"That's from Harold and me." Heads turned as once again Patty surprised everyone. "In fact it goes beyond that; anyone who messes with you messes with us."  
"Yeah, anyone tries to do anything to you, I'll pound them!" Harold seconded his 'girlfriend' (call her that around him at your own risk, though).  
"Well, thanks, both of you."  
  
A bit of a lull followed, in which Gerald took the chance to ask his friend something.  
"You know, my man, you would've been well within your rights to have Wolfgang and Ludwig thrown out of here."  
"I know, Gerald. But, well, I can't explain it. I look at them and I see how I could be in a year or two. I don't understand it myself."  
"Whatever you say, Arnold. Whatever you say." At this point he smiled a bit more as Phoebe stepped forward with her present.  
More unwrapping. "Clue, the deluxe collector's edition?"  
"I know you like playing it."  
"Thanks, Phoebe." Next was Helga.  
More unwrapping produced a slightly used copy of... "'The Riverside Shakespeare'?"  
"Yeah, considering your performances in those Shakespeare plays we've been in you can use all the help you can get. You might want to start reading right away. This is the book they use in college, and if you start now you just might be ready to take the class by then. Just, just... don't get any ideas, football-head, I just don't want your performance to drag mine down next time we're in a play together!" And with that, she stalked off to anywhere else. "Come on, Phoebe."  
"Coming."  
Arnold's eyelids were now three-quarters of the way down. "Nice seeing you too, Helga. Oh, and thanks."  
Helga half-pulled Phoebe --- as was her wont --- toward just out of sight of Arnold but where she could still keep an eye on him.  
"That was very nice of you to give him that, Helga."  
"Pfft! Yeah, right. It's just like I told him, I don't want his performance stinking up mine anymore."  
"Right. Hey Helga, they're serving ice cream over there; do you want any?"  
"Um," Helga recognized their code phrase. "No, I think I'm fine. What about your present? You said it would be appropriate."  
"Well, after all these years, I figured it was about time that someone went out and bought him a Clue."  
Laughter was elicited from that statement. "Good one Pheebs."  
"Thank you. Um, Helga, are you sure you don't want to go get something to eat?"  
"No, I'm good, still full from dinner. I think I'll just stay here and watch what goes on."  
  
And it was a sight to see, because it was now Lila's turn.  
It was a CD. "'Tell Me On a Sunday'?"  
"It's one of Andrew Lloyd Webber's first successful musicals, and I'm ever so certain it's one of my favorites."  
"Wow. Thanks, Lila."  
"There's more, Arnold."  
"Really?"  
"I'm ever so certain there is. Do you have a portable CD player and fresh batteries?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, I'd like to meet you tomorrow at the park. There's something I'm oh so certain we need to talk about. Would you meet me there, and bring your CD player with this in it?"  
"Sure, Lila. When?"  
"Two o'clock."  
"Okkay."  
A few yards away, Helga took in the scene with mingled anger and puzzlement. "Hmph, wonder what Miss Perfect has in mind?"  
"I, I don't know."  
"Wait a minute. Phoebe, you're on that group project with her; are you sure you don't know what she's going to do?"  
"Well, we were supposed to meet at the park tomorrow to go to the library to meet with Brainy about the project. The meeting's at three, but she did say something about having some business to take care of first."  
"Oh, really. Well, I'm going to be there too. If Li-laaaa is going to do something, I'm going to know what it is."  
"Well, if that's what you really want, Helga." Phoebe said. Things were progressing more smoothly than anticipated. She didn't have to convince Helga to go to the park with her tomorrow; in fact it would have been hard to try to stop her even if she had wanted to. Whatever Lila had in mind for the morrow was going to be interesting.  
  
Next is Sunday, or is it? Y'all will just have to wonder. For those who don't know, Bocephus is a nickname for Hank Williams Jr. And yes, Mind Your Own Business does sound almost exactly like Move It On Over (with which George Thorogood & the Destroyers had a hit in 1978), and for good reason as it is also by Ol' Hank. The pilgrim thing was inevitable considering I already had Grandma thinking it was Thanksgiving. Dr. John Robinson was the beloved pastor of the Pilgrims, who due to age and sickness could not join them on their voyage to America, entrusting the flock to the care of elder William Brewster. He was also an ancestor of mine, the Robinson line coming down to my mother's mother and her father John Lafayette Robinson. Other names, John Alden and Priscilla Mullins, were from the Courtship of Miles Standish. Anyway, hope y'all liked this chapter, 'cause I really have reservations about the next one. As always, please read & review. And as always, I'm Nftnat; on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com and on IM I'm Nftnat. Cy'all. 


	9. He Loves You Not?

Hello, everyone. I'd like to start this with a quote from an earlier fanfic of mine, 'Complicated':  
  
"...By this point in her life, Helga had figured out that Phoebe knew her secret and that there was really no point in pretending when it was just the two of them talking. It was really a bit of a release in her lifetime of tension, being able to open up a little bit around Phoebe, who in turn liked it that her best friend could act a little more like it..."  
  
That is in regard to a point Draco's Angels raised about Helga being able to accept her love for Arnold when around Phoebe. This fic follows 'Complicated' and 'When Patty Met Cupcake' in my continuity. Not all fics I write will be in that continuity, but when one doesn't fit I'll announce it.  
Now, prepare for horror. The chapter that takes place Sunday in the park with Arnold and Lila? Next chapter. And I'll try to have it up within 48 hours. This chapter is the one I really had reservations about. It's a return to the dreaded songfic; worse yet, a dream songfic, in more ways than one. You'll see, if you dare to read it. It touches on the first experience I had with Nick Clips, upon which I stumbled while waiting for Pinky & the Brain to come on Nick one day. But it evens out, since I stumbled on Hey Arnold! after some episodes of Animaniacs ran long.  
  
Now lessee. Starry Nights, I agree about Phoebe's gift; that's how I intended it. Hopefully I'll be answering some more of your questions. DA, the break is over; after the Guernica that is this chapter, I'll be getting back to work. The kids' work, that is. As to the bouncers, well, a wise man once wrote "Cast thy bread upon the water, for thou shalt find it again after many days"; imo Arnold's been doing the casting all his life and it's high time he started finding it again. No good deed he does goes unrewarded, and that includes good deeds done to bullies. Call it karma or whatever you want to call it. And I'm glad that you and Houkanno Yuuhou liked the songs; there's more where that came from. Fair warning: I'm a musician among other things and I am liable to overuse music in my fics. HY, you are kind. Let's see if you feel the same way about this one. You'll see about the things you mention, next time. J.T., you are perceptive. I am notorious for sprinkling obscure refs in pretty much everything I say. And I'm stubborn enough to keep trying to respond to everyone who reviews, and this is the most reviews I've gotten yet. n8, I'm glad you liked the party. Yeah, they called them 'chicky babies' when they were kissing them good night in Sixth Grade Girls. Your point about the Pentium is well taken, and I have since upgraded. Jess, you'll find out next time. Toker, thanks for that. I knew about "Because the Night", but I'd actually thought Patty Smyth and Patti Smith were one & the same. Silly me. Dramagirl310, Chien, thank you to you two too.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. "He Loves You Not" is by Dream and is on the album "It Was All a Dream" (Bad Boy 2000) --- just keep telling yourself that while you're reading this.  
  
The rest of the evening went normally; well, as normally as parties involving the residents of the Sunset Arms go. Yes, Arnold's grandmother still thought it was Thanksgiving, or at least that's the impression everyone got. To placate her, Brainy played a set of Thanksgiving hymns. Helga had to give him credit; it was the hardest rocking versions of "We Gather Together", "Come, Ye Thankful People", and "For the Beauty Of the Earth" she'd ever heard.  
There was a significant amount of animosity when Mr. Simmons appeared, but the lynch mob as it were was called off, by Phoebe of all people. Considering that she had apparently been affected by the project more than anyone, the others dropped the matter.  
One of the lighter moments revolved around Principal Wartz. A whispering campaign put into play a practical joke: anyone and everyone who was around him laughed and pointed at him for as long as he was near them. In less than a minute his stack blew; he started handing out detentions, suspensions, etc. But before he could work his way up to expulsions, cooler heads prevailed. The police and even the mayor informed him that he had no power over even students off campus or after hours, let alone during summer vacation. He didn't like that; after muttering something about his animals, he left the party.  
During the course of the party, if one had bothered to pay attention, one would have heard some interesting conversations going on.  
  
"Willikers, Harold. That sure was somethin' you & Bi-, uh, Patty done fer Arnold."  
"He stood up to Wartz for us; that kid has guts."  
  
"Hey, Rhonda, wanna dance?"  
"Bug off, Sid. Why don't you go bother some of the older girls like you always do?"  
"Aw come on! We can discuss the project."  
"Not here, not now."  
"Aw, man!"  
"I'll dance with you, Sid."  
"What, what'd you say, Nadine?"  
  
"Let's go down to the zoo and--"  
"NOO!!!"  
  
"Eugene, can we talk?"  
"Sure, Sheena. What about?"  
"Well, I don't know if you've noticed it or not, but..."  
  
"Now, don't get any ideas, football-head. I'm just dancing with you because it's your birthday."  
"Whatever you say."  
  
And so it went. Then Arnold's grandma got on the piano to play and sing 'We Need a Little Christmas', the song from the musical Mame. And tried to draft Arnold to sing the part of Patrick. The party broke up soon after that.  
  
Fast forward a few hours. It's the night before Lila tells Arnold, whatever it is she's going to tell him. And Helga is in the familiar position of mental torture, in bed. Curiosity about the morrow will not leave her alone. She is tossing, and turning, and dreaming...  
  
She finds herself wandering around in one of those dreamscapes. The sky was orange-yellow and occasionally dotted with a flock of Clue pieces. On the air could be heard the strains of a tinny piano playing songs from decades before her parents were born, accompanied by the voice of Arnold's grandmother and an occasional remonstration from Phil. She encountered another piano, a grand with Olga at the keys. The lid was up, and Bob was playing the strings like a harp. The next sight on her travels is her mother and Phoebe engaged in the construction of an origami army. Phoebe has a straw in her mouth, which trails a ludicrously long length into a banana split. Another straw, just as long, leads out of the split and into Gerald's mouth.  
"All right, I guess I'm in another dream. Wonder what else-- uh, better not ask that."  
  
Then she saw him. Arnold. With his trademark half-lidded eyes and inscrutable expression. Only he was bigger than life, ten feet tall and much more solid. She was reminded of one of her shrines to him, only two, three times as big.  
"ARNOLD!" she ran to him, screaming. "Oh, Arnold, lone bastion of sanity in this crazy quilt of emotional turmoil that is my subconscious..." But she stopped. Despite the fact that she was screaming this at the top of her voice - for once - Arnold apparently took no notice of her. "Arnold?" No response. "ARNOLD!!!" Nothing.  
Then it started. The music. Not tinny, nor classical, but more pop- like. Then the voices, followed soon after by their owners, every one hated by her at one time or another.  
  
"Give it your all, girl;  
Give it all you got."  
  
"Ruth MacDougal?"  
  
"You can take your chance  
And take your best shot."  
  
"Miss Felter?"  
  
"Say what you want girl,  
Do what you wanna do;"  
  
"Summer?!?"  
  
"He's never gonna, gonna make it with you."  
  
"Liiii-la!" By now she was seething.  
  
There they were, her nemeses, all four of them. All objects of her beloved's affections. By now they surrounded him. They were all over him, touching him as she had wanted to touch him. And he seemed to be enjoying it! Then it started up again.  
  
Miss Felter: "You're pulling petals off a flower,  
Trying to get your own way.  
Keep pulling till it says what you want it to say."  
  
Ruth: "Girl you can pick a field full of daisies,  
But he'd still be my baby."  
  
Summer: "I know you can hardly wait till I'm away from him.  
Instinctively I know what you're thinking."  
  
Lila: "You'll be giving him an open invitation.  
But my baby won't be taken in, no."  
  
Miss Felter: "You can pout your cherry lips,"  
  
Ruth: "Try to tempt him with a sweet kiss,"  
  
Summer: "You can flirt your pretty eyes;  
He ain't got his hands tied."  
  
Then they all sang:  
  
"No chains to unlock,  
So free to do what he wants.  
He's into what he's got;  
He loves me, he loves you not.  
No matter what you do,  
He's never gonna be with you.  
He's into what he's got;  
He loves me, he loves you not."  
  
The scene was now turning kind of sick, really. She was finding it hard to watch, but she couldn't tear her eyes away; she kept watching the perverse scene play itself out.  
  
Miss Felter: "You're the kind of girl that's always up for do or dare;  
Only want him just because he's there."  
  
Summer: "Always looking for a new ride,  
The grass is greener on the other side."  
  
Ruth: "You're the kind of girl who's not used to hearing "no";  
All your lovers try to take you where you wanna go."  
  
Lila: "Doesn't matter how hard you try,  
Never gonna get with my guy."  
  
And the voices came together again. (A/N For those with choral backgrounds, the voices are Ruth -- soprano, Lila -- mezzo, Summer -- alto, Miss Felter -- contralto; and I know that's not accurate but you get the idea.)  
  
"No chains to unlock,  
So free to do what he wants,  
He's into what he's got,  
He loves me, he loves you not.  
No matter what you do,  
He's never gonna be with you.  
He's into what he's got.  
He loves me, he loves you not."  
  
Hands on ears, eyes screwed shut, Helga was screaming, "Make it stop, Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!!!" Seeing some of her classmates, she rushed to where they were, desperate to have some help. They were watching events unfold, and uncover, like an audience. Stinky and Harold were eating popcorn from a bucket on top of Sid's head. Sid was eating his own nose, with chili, and mustard, and cheese. Nadine, net in hand, passed by, chasing an insect form of Rhonda. And there were others on what passed for bleachers.  
"They call that dancing?" Sheena commented.  
"They should've come to us." put in Eugene.  
"Hey." Helga jumped, feeling a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to find herself face to face with Gerald.  
He nodded to the scene behind her and asked, "Are you sure you're old enough to see that?"  
A disembodied voice that could only be that of Phil was then heard: "Heck, I don't know if I'm old enough to see it."  
Helga's heart was in a blender which by now had progressed to the puree setting, but she couldn't stop herself. She turned back to the scene, watching things that would never be seen on Nickelodeon, or Nick at Nite, or even TV Land. Court TV, maybe. It occurred to her to wonder how they do that and keep singing.  
  
All: "Doesn't matter what you do,  
He's never gonna be with you."  
  
Ruth: "Give it all girl, give it all you got."  
  
Miss Felter: "Take a chance and take your best shot."  
  
Summer: "Say what you want girl,  
Do what you do."  
  
Lila: "He's never gonna make it with you."  
  
Miss Felter: "You can pout your cherry lips,"  
  
Summer: "Try to tempt him with a sweet kiss."  
  
Ruth: "You can flirt your pretty eyes;  
He ain't got his hands tied."  
  
All: "No chains to unlock,  
So free to do what he wants,  
He's into what he's got,  
He loves me, he loves you not.  
No matter what you do,  
He's never gonna be with you.  
He's into what he's got.  
He loves me, he loves you not.  
  
Miss Felter: "He loves me,"  
  
Summer: "He loves me,"  
  
Ruth: "He loves me,"  
  
Lila: "He loves me,"  
  
And everyone said, "He loves you not!" pointing at Helga.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Helga screamed, frantic, desperate, --- and awakening. She was incoherent, inconsolable, hyperventilating, able to say but one word, which she did over and over. "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"  
pound pound pound "Hey, keep it down! Your sister needs her sleep."  
  
"Hmm, what, B?"  
"Go back to sleep, Miriam. It was just the girl."  
  
That, while not completely unexpected, did exactly less than zero to calm her. That effect was accomplished by her own considerable willpower. After a minute clutching the sides of her bed, she rolled out for an emergency service in front of her shrine, emitting the "groanings which cannot be uttered" of which you might have heard. Then, to apply the war paint. The headdress, the ceremonial robe, etc. And a vow.  
"Lila, if you do anything to my beloved, you will pay! And that goes for the rest of you, too!"  
What she did to solemnize that vow, you do not want to know.  
  
Well, I think I've exorcised those demons from my hands by now. May Craig Bartlett have mercy on my soul! I'm so ashamed of this, I'm changing the rating. I apologize to one and all for this chapter, but I saw it as happening the night between the party and the scene in the park. I've had worse dreams than this, and I'm certain I'm not the only one. Please forgive me. Please also read & review. If you want to flame me privately, on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com and on IM I'm Nftnat. Cy'all. Soon. 


	10. Tell Me On a Sunday

Well, I said I'd have the next chapter up in 48 hours; hopefully, I've done that, but I'm not sure of the exact time. Anyway, here it is, the chapter where Lila dumps Arnold, and I mean really dumps him. We also get a look inside her. I'm no Lila hater, but of course she has a dark side; we all do. I'm sure it'll be better than the previous chapter; imo it could hardly be worse.  
  
Speaking of the previous chapter, I am overwhelmed at the response; it's tied for my personal record for the most reviews per chapter, and has resulted in my now having an average of 6 reviews per chapter. Your reviews have been very kind and forgiving, with one exception; I got my first flame, yay! To address the flame first, thank you borg. The course of no one's fanfic writing career should run smooth, and you've done your part to ensure that such would be the case with me. You're right; that last chapter was a piece of trash (which surprised even me as I'm usually the resident prude), I do seem to be on here typing stories every hour, and I do need to get a life. I will take your advice under advisement and act accordingly. Vladivostock, read on to find out. Houkanno Yuuhou, I too had reservations about the sex parts; as I just said I'm usually the resident prude and I'm shocked, shocked, that I turned out stuff like that. Maybe I should make what happens less obvious, I dunno. That said, I agree with you that Helga at almost 13 might have had just such a dream, sex and all. As to Ruth being a soprano, it was because she seemed to me to have the highest voice of the four of them; confirming my opinion would be a good reason to watch my tape of Arnold's Valentine again. I wonder what my grandmother Ruth would think, hoo boy. n8, thanks, I changed the rating to PG. Starry Nights, thanks. JESS, read on to find out what Lila does. J.T., thanks, I will trust your judgment as I am on record as saying you're perceptive. cass, thank you too. veggie5, thanks and I hope you explore the many other HA! fics on here. There's a lot of excrement, but there's also a lot of cream, which is starting to be collected at Gerald's Library. I'd recommend stuff by Simmer, Anne, Heidi Pataki, Starry Nights, Yardbird9, dutch tulips / Queen of Hearts, littlepinkbook, and I just know I'm leaving out many of my favorites. Just look around; you'll find the quality stuff. And now, to the work.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Tell Me On a Sunday, from the musical of the same name, was written by Don Black and composed by and performed under the direction of Andrew Lloyd Webber 1980. And I've no idea who currently holds the copyright to Monty Python.  
  
Comes the dawn. Sunday morning, the day certain seismic shifts are to find their way to a certain football-headed hero. The indications of what awaits that afternoon are few that morning. Lila is tight-lipped, Helga is in rather a disheveled condition, and anyone else who knows what's going down has expressions in varying degrees of inscrutability.  
The morning hours pass without incident. Those who go to church do so, those who stay home do that. And those who normally go for an outing --- to the lake, or to Hawk Mountain, or just on a car trip --- carry on their usual Sunday morning routine as though nothing is out of the ordinary. How little anyone knows.  
One o'clock, a time on the shank of the afternoon though long enough after noon that those who have been elsewhere have time to return home and partake of Sunday dinner. By this time a certain group has been meeting at the Sunset Arms Boarding House for some time. It is a tension-filled meeting; Helga is even more on edge than she usually is, so much so that Arnold and Gerald have no trouble picking up on it. Nervous? That might be one word for it.  
Fast forward half an hour. It's now...  
"Hey Arnold, it's 1:30 man. You might want to start getting ready now."  
"Yeah, don't want to be late for your date with Liiiii-la!"  
"It's not a date, Helga. She just wants me to meet her so we can talk."  
  
Meanwhile, the subject of said conversation is out and about well in advance of her rendezvous in the park. If she started walking now, she would get there with some time to spare; but she wasn't in the mood to start walking there just yet. She had left her home early because she had thinking to do, a lot of thinking.  
After walking about for a while, she found her feet taking her to that alley, the place where it all started. Step. Step. Step. To the wall at the end of the alley.  
And there it was.  
"Arnold loves Lila"  
Everything they had gone through, everything through which they had yet to go, all of it could be traced directly to that. She hadn't even thought of Arnold in that way until she saw it, and was encouraged by Rhonda and Nadine to think in that direction. Nor had he thought of her in that way, as he had later told her. Whoever had written those three words had indeed sown the wind.  
Lila pondered the writing, trying to fathom who had written it and why. Desire for her and Arnold to get together? Or merely a cruel prank, one the reverberations of which sounded forth to this day, and beyond.  
Why? she wondered. why did you do this to us, whoever you are? What did I ever do to you? And Arnold, whatever could he have done? What could deserve all the hurt we've gone through, all the hurt that lies ahead? She was angry now, hurt and angry. Tears of anger started to fall, clouding her vision. She could feel it, emotions she knew she had but which she usually kept bottled up inside. And for good reason; she feared that side of her. If she lost control, she didn't want to think about what could happen. But now it possessed her. In her blind fury, she knew she had to take it out on something. Appending blame for her state to the wall before her, she charged it, coming to a stop inches from it. Then, the fists. Silently, she struck out at the personification of her foe. Then, the fog cleared from her eyes and her head, and she saw it.  
Chalk dust.  
Not unexpected, considering this sign was written in chalk, but it was enough to make her step back and look again. A lock of hair strayed over her forehead, partially blocking her view. She brushed it aside, and that's when she saw it.  
Why hadn't she noticed before?  
The writing was different.  
The first two words were written in elegant cursive, which was appropriate to the care that had evidently gone into the heart design surrounding the lettering. But the last word, her name, was written in manuscript. Not even good manuscript, but like it was written in a hurry. Like an afterthought.  
An afterthought, she thought, is that all I am?  
And the dust, dust where another name had been, one rubbed out to make room for the "afterthought". There wasn't enough for her to try to make out what the other name could have been, just enough to let her know that it had been there.  
beep beep  
On instinct, her wrist swiveled in front of her face. 1:45. If she left now, she'd be there on time. Couldn't be late, not her, not Miss Perfect. Oh yes, she had heard it, and before Brainy had mentioned it too.  
Brainy. What was it about him? Why did she keep thinking about him? Oh well.  
One thing she had already learned from him: keep a package of tissues on hand. The package she had with her now went into play, as she set about removing evidence of her tantrum. Two tissues, and the blood was gone from her knuckles. A stop by a drinking fountain to soak her knuckles, a little cream from her purse, and the job was done.  
And now, for Arnold.  
  
Arnold was approaching the park, accompanied by Gerald. Helga had chosen not to come; she had said something about doing something with Phoebe, at which Gerald had taken silent interest. He couldn't figure out what Phoebe saw in Helga.  
"Well, here we are man."  
"Thanks for coming with me Gerald."  
"Hey, I had to give you a sendoff for whatever's going to happen. You sure you don't want me hangin' around?"  
"Better not, Gerald. Lila just said she wanted to talk with me, y'know?"  
"Yeah, I getcha. You take care." And with a thumb wiggle, he was on his way.  
  
Helga too was on her way, to the park. Accompanying or accompanied by Phoebe, it was a tossup as ostensibly Phoebe was the one with a reason for being here. They approached from the same direction Lila did, so of course they noticed Lila's little ablution.  
"Hey, Pheebs, what's she doing?"  
"It appears that she is wiping her hands. I'm not sure why; I'm not close enough."  
"And now she's doing something in that drinking fountain."  
"Perhaps she's washing her hands."  
"Make a note to remind me not to drink out of that fountain next time we're here."  
"Making."  
"And now she's doing something with some cream. Hah, I guess being Miss Perfect is higher maintenance than I'd thought."  
Many thoughts came into Phoebe's mind about how there might be more to Lila than Helga was willing to believe, but she knew that Helga didn't want to hear that, so she kept silent.  
A couple of minutes, and then, the rendezvous.  
"There he is, Phoebe. sigh " Then she followed her usual habit of catching herself and looking around. Her gaze fell on a smiling Phoebe. Her eyebrow cocked.  
"Forgetting."  
"Right."  
No more was said as they focused on the conversation now transpiring their eyes.  
  
"Lila!"  
"Oh, hello Arnold--"  
"AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"  
The conversation was tabled for the moment as Curly ran past them with Mr. Simmons in tow. Curly was carrying a small black rectangular object.  
"Curly, come back here. I need to return Pay It On Ahead to the Front to the video store tomorrow!"  
"But you don't understand; it's MY story. I've been paying it on ahead, and I, and I,..."  
"And you what?"  
"I SEE EX-PEOPLE! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"  
And so the chase went, out of their sight.  
Lila was confused. "'Ex-people'?"  
"I think he means people who have passed on, who are no more, who have ceased to be, expired, gone to meet their maker. Late people, stiffs, bereft of life, resting in peace. People who've rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. You know, ex-people."  
"Oh." And now Lila's curiosity was directed at Arnold.  
He explained. "You have the guys over for the night enough times, sooner or later you're going to get around to Monty Python videos."  
"I see." She was still confused. "However did Curly get Mr. Simmons' video tape anyway?"  
"Your guess is as good as mine."  
An uncomfortable pause ensued. Finally, Arnold took it upon himself to break it.  
"Um, Lila, didn't you want to talk with me about something?"  
"What? Oh, yes, Arnold. Do you have your portable CD player with you?"  
"Right here," he said, holding up his CD walkman.  
"And the CD I gave you yesterday is in it?"  
"Yes."  
"Very well then. I would like for you to walk with me. And as we walk, I would like for you to listen to a certain song on that CD."  
"Uh, all right."  
"Cut 13."  
As Arnold fiddled with the buttons on his walkman, preparatory to joining Lila on her walk, Helga's curiosity was at as high a level as usual where those two were concerned. No one heard what Arnold listened to but him, and Lila --- who had committed the song to memory some time ago --- didn't need to. As they traveled, Arnold and Lila, with Helga and Phoebe at a discreet distance, Arnold listened to the music.  
  
Don't write a letter  
when you want to leave.  
Don't call me from a friend's apartment.  
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.  
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.  
Tell me on a Sunday, please.  
  
Let me down easy, no big song and dance.  
no long faces, no long looks,  
no deep conversation.  
I know how I want you to say good-bye.  
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees.  
Tell me on a Sunday, please.  
  
Don't want to know who's to blame;  
It won't help knowing.  
Don't want to fight day and night;  
bad enough you're going.  
Don't leave in silence  
with no word at all.  
Don't get drunk and slam the door;  
that's no way to end this.  
I know how I want you to say goodbye.  
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.  
Tell me on a Sunday, please.  
  
As the song played, Lila kept an eye on her watch. She had heard the song enough times to know exactly when it would end. As it did so, she grabbed his hand with one of hers and pushed the Stop button with her other.  
From behind, Helga noticed Lila's actions, and she seethed. It was fortunate for Lila that Phoebe was there, for Helga might not have been able to control herself after her dream of the night before.  
"Huh?" Arnold noticed the music stopping, to say nothing of Lila grabbing his hand. He looked around, taking in where they were.  
It was the zoo, next to the monkey cage - the one where Monkeyman had practically raised himself. Well, and good, but why were they there? For the answer, he turned to Lila.  
"Well, there's no circus in the area so I couldn't get the flying trapeze, but otherwise..." She trailed off, then began again. "Arnold, do you remember when it started, the idea of us as a couple?"  
"Um, not really."  
Why am I not surprised she thought. It had been 51 hours since Brainy had lifted the fog from her consciousness and showed her the champion cluelessness of people, people among whom she had been until then. So she braced herself for the history lesson.  
"It started with words someone wrote on a wall, 'Arnold loves Lila'. I hadn't even thought of you as more than a friend until then, and you certainly hadn't; you told me so. But I started to like like you, or I thought I did. Then you told me that you didn't like like me, that what had been written was not true. That caused me to rethink my feelings and realize that I never had like liked you. But it seems it also caused you to rethink your feelings for me. Because not too long afterward you told me that you did like like me. And you still do, don't you?"  
"Well, yes."  
"That's why you've been paying attention to me, carrying my things for me, doing things for me."  
"I would've done the same things for anyone else, Lila."  
"Would you have?"  
Silence.  
"I thought so. Arnold, I've recently come to the conclusion that by indulging you in your deeds, I've been manipulating you, causing you to think that there's a possibility that my feelings for you could change back." Here she caught his hand again, and looked into his eyes. "Arnold, that's not going to happen." She could feel the tears starting to come; she had to do this as quickly and as cleanly as possible. "Arnold, I've given the matter a great deal of thought; in fact, if you added up the hours I've spent thinking about this over the years, it would add up to weeks. Arnold, I won't like like you, not ever. I know that you're not the oh-so-special someone I'm looking for. And logically, it would follow that I'm not the oh- so-special someone you're looking for."  
"Lila..."  
"Please, don't make this harder than it is." It was taking an effort to keep her voice from breaking. "There's someone else for you Arnold, and I have to let you go. You need to be there for her when she comes, and she will come, Arnold." Her breath was now catching, her voice shaking.  
Arnold, being as delightfully --- if selectively --- dense as he was, noticed this and tried to comfort her. "Lila--"  
"No, Arnold." she persisted, moving away from him. "I was at fault for leading you on, even if I did it subconsciously. I have told you ever so many times that I don't like you like you, I just like you. But apparently you haven't quite gotten the message. So for the time being, it would be for the best if you and I stayed away from each other, or at least didn't do things together."  
"Lila..." Now he too was starting to cry.  
"I'm sorry Arnold. One day you'll understand. Soon, I hope."  
Now both of them were crying, hugging, for the last time. Out of the corner of her eye, Lila could barely make out the forms of Helga and Phoebe. That was it; she had to get this over with, now!  
"I'm sorry," she repeated; and with that she wrenched herself from his embrace and ran in the direction where Helga and Phoebe were. As she passed them, Phoebe fell in step with her.  
"I'm sorry." This time that sentence came from Phoebe.  
Lila, halted in her misery, turned. "What?"  
"I'm sorry that you had to do that."  
"Me too. And it wasn't even me who put myself in that position." Pause. "You heard everything?"  
"Yes."  
Lila looked back at Helga, who was as stunned as Arnold was. Lila considered. After all, it was Helga's fault as much as anyone's, the situation they were in. If she'd had more guts when it counted it wouldn't have come to this. Maybe she needed a good kick in the seat, so to speak, to jump-start her. If she started breaking the ice with Arnold ahead of schedule, well, that was in line with Brainy's master plan, right? Lila came to a decision.  
A hand at her shoulder. "Lila?" It was Phoebe.  
Lila's face adopted a determined expression. "You go ahead; I'll catch up."  
And with that, she executed a 180 and marched back in the direction from which she'd come, the direction where Helga still was, still stupefied, still staring at an equally pole-axed Arnold.  
Now it was Lila's turn to tap someone on the shoulder. "Wha--?" came from Helga as she turned around.  
Lila was starting to get angry again. "All right, I did what I had to do. I set him free. Now, what are you going to do about it?"  
Helga could only stammer in response.  
Lila was fed up with Helga's hesitation. "Look, you no longer have to worry about Arnold falling for me because I will take steps to keep that from happening. The next girl might not be as understanding, and there probably will be a next girl soon enough. You told me your secret years ago, and since then you have done nothing to act on it. Well, you would be well advised to do so now. Next time I might not be able to help you, and Arnold the poor dear is so dense he won't notice anything less than an outright declaration from you." Lila glanced at her watch; if she left now she wouldn't be late for the meeting at the college library. She had now officially run out of time and patience. "Go to him, Helga. Go to him now! Do something, say something, at least let him know he can count on you as a friend. He deserves that much at least. Go on!" she exhorted while doing the unthinkable, pushing Helga G. Pataki. "Go to him! He doesn't deserve to suffer any more than he already has."  
And with that, she was again at a run. The hot tears of anger were again threatening to cover her field of vision.  
She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't asked for Arnold to fall for her, for Helga to do nothing about it, she hadn't asked for that message to be written on the wall. It wasn't right, him falling for her. Couldn't she just be a nice person without people falling in love with her? It wasn't right what she had to do, and she hated the circumstances that mandated it.  
  
Hate? Yes, hate, of everything and everyone that contributed to the current unhappy situation. Of herself for not doing something before it came to this, of Arnold for being so dense and so smitten, of Helga for her lack of volition, of Brainy for telling her what she had to do, of whoever wrote those words on that wall, of her father for moving them here where she'd become ensnared in this situation, of God for allowing her mother to die and the farm to fail necessitating their move here, of Phoebe--  
"Lila?"  
--of Phoebe--  
"Lila?"  
--Phoebe--  
"Lila!" Finally jolted out of her mental self-pity jag, she whipped around to face her be-glassed colleague.  
"Huh?"  
"You can stop running now; we're almost there."  
"Oh." she stopped short.  
"That really took a lot out of you, didn't it?"  
"You have no idea." Lila's hands went to her forehead; she was now starting to hyperventilate.  
Fortunately, they were now on the outskirts of the local college, which included the occasional bench outside. Phoebe now steered Lila in the direction of such a bench and sat her down. "Try to breathe deeply, Lila. And put your head between your knees."  
Out of sorts, Lila nonetheless managed to follow Phoebe's advice to the letter. When she was able to, they arose, and continued on, to the library.  
  
Of course I'd like y'all to read this and continue to review. Wait, if you're reading this you've probably already read it. So please review it, then? Thanks in advance. And next time, well, didn't you notice someone missing here? That someone will now once again come to the foreground of the story. Cy'all. 


	11. Moving On

And so we come to Chapter 11, where the trio plans their next move. Imo it starts better than it finishes, but that's just me and my opinion isn't one of those that counts, unless I started reviewing my own fics and that just doesn't seem right.  
  
Speaking of the reviews, I'd like to start like I did last chapter, by acknowledging borg. I appreciated your apology. Feel free to look around; there's plenty of fics around here that make me feel insignificant.  
  
n8, glad you caught at least part of that ref. For those who don't know Curly is voiced on the show – at least in a few episodes – by Haley Joel Osment, better known to the general public for the movies Pay It Forward and the one with Bruce Willis where he said "I see dead people". It was also a chance to get in a Monty Python reference (would y'all believe I've never seen a whole episode?), and I relish every chance I get to combine refs. JESS. hmm, could be. And I did notice; you might notice I corrected that with extreme prejudice. Starry Nights, kind of you. Ms. Prongs, thanks for that; maybe you should've listened to Revolution #9 while reading Chapter 9, I dunno. Just a thought. Houkanno Yuuhou, you'll find out here. And if you had cause to say 'poor Lila' before... Now that you mention it I should get back to Arnold & Helga, but not in this chapter or the next. In Chapter 13, though, I will. And I can relate on the voice; my singing voice is all over the map from tenor, though I prefer bass. I guess I have one of those voices. CharmedRomanticLady, I look forward to reading your reviews and I'd better get around to reviewing some of your stories. True Locket, Chien, Dramagirl310, Horseamew, thanks for your feedback too.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, & / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Post-It is a trademark and copyright and patent of the 3M Corporation.  
  
Phoebe & Lila walked on in silence until they turned a corner and came in sight of the library. Then Lila broke the silence.  
"Have you ever been here before?"  
"A couple of times. It's a good place for research, better in many ways than the public library. All of those newspaper and magazine microfilms and microfiches, why, their New York Times archives alone go back to the 1800's."  
"That is ever so impressive. But then what does the public library have?"  
"Well, they're better at non-curriculum oriented books. The fiction and non-fiction series --- James Bond, Sherlock Holmes, Purdy Boys, etc."  
"I see."  
"And it's the official repository for government census records, so it's where the genealogists go."  
"I see."  
"This library gets the rest of the government records."  
"Why would the government records be divided between the libraries?"  
"I don't know."  
By now they had entered the library and passed through the entryway, and now they stood at the front desk. Phoebe approached the librarian.  
"Excuse me. We're supposed to be here for a group project study session but we have no idea where we're meeting."  
The librarian, surprised, looked down at the both of them. The college library was open to the general public, but that didn't change the fact that one didn't see people from the other side of adolescence in there very often. "What is your name, miss?"  
"Phoebe Heyerdahl."  
"Oh, yes. Miss Heyerdahl. Arrangements have been made, and your name's on the list. Go upstairs; it's Science Lab 3 on the second floor. There's a map at the top of the stairs."  
"Thank you." Phoebe turned to Lila and nodded in the direction in which they were to go, which the two of them then did.  
  
As they walked, Phoebe had something on her mind which she was reluctant to bring up, considering what Lila had already been through that day. But she had to know.  
"Um, Lila?"  
"Yes?"  
"Um, there's something I'm curious about. It's about Arnold and.. , well, I hesitate to mention it because you've already been through quite a bit but I was wondering..."  
"You were wondering if I was tempted to keep him."  
"Well, yes."  
"Well, if I said that I didn't, that would be ever so much of a lie. I mean, it had occurred to me that maybe I could learn to like like him, and that maybe we could join forces to help Helga learn to like like Brainy. It wouldn't have worked would it?"  
"Not on Helga's end. Brainy might love her as much as she loves Arnold, but while Arnold has a significant amount of regard for her, she barely acknowledges Brainy's existence."  
"I thought as much."  
"Here's the map." Phoebe checked it. "Hmm, close to the restrooms. Convenient of them." With Phoebe leading the way, they went in the indicated direction.  
Phoebe continued the interrogation, as it were. "What about you? Could you learn to like like Arnold?"  
Lila chewed her lips over that for a while. "Maybe. But there would always be a part of me that would know it was pretending. I might look for that in him that I saw in his cousin Arnie, but..." she left the thought unfinished.  
But now Lila had a question on her mind. "What cause did you have to doubt whether I could do it?"  
"Well, you had been sending out mixed signals." "I know." "Like when you accompanied Arnold to the Cheese Festival."  
Lila chewed on her lips again. "That was a mistake; I acknowledge it now. I knew how Helga felt about him, but he asked me so nicely, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings. When Helga showed up at Rhonda's party dressed as me, though, I knew how serious it was; I even took the trouble to sound Arnold out about Helga. But back then, I was just trying to not hurt him."  
"To the extent of telling him you were allergic to stuffed animals?"  
"All right, I lied so he wouldn't feel so bad."  
"And your taking ballet for two years?"  
That brought Lila up short suddenly, not to mention affecting her emotionally. Phoebe noticed the change in her demeanor.  
"Lila?"  
It was everything Lila could do to control herself at this point. "That wasn't a lie, Phoebe. I, I had taken ballet for two years. Back in, Pleasantville."  
Phoebe realized her mistake too late. She immediately attempted damage control. "Lila, I--"  
"I had to give it up when we had to leave. I, I had to give up so many things..." She was starting to cry now.  
"I'm sorry I brought it up, Lila." Phoebe by now was frantic to stop what she'd started, but it was too little too late.  
"I still have my ballerina outfit. It's too small now of course. Sometimes, I'll get it out and just hold it, remember my old life."  
Phoebe could only stand and watch, knowing she was powerless to hold back the tide.  
"Daddy always loved seeing me in it. He said I could be a prima ballerina in one of the big companies like the Kirov or the Russe or the Bolshoi, or the American equivalents at least. He used to call me his little Pavlova. And Mommy, she, she..." And the dam burst.  
It was ugly. Lila broke down on a level equal to a normal Olga crying jag, and it wasn't because of a Big Sis Little Sis thing either. The volume was quickly and dangerously approaching a decibel level that would normally cause the staff to ask you to leave. Phoebe looked around, then spotted sanctuary, the women's restroom. She hugged Lila for dear life and guided her into the restroom. What happened in there, I have no right to divulge.  
  
Some time later the two of them emerged, Lila looking a little worse for her experience and occasionally sniffling. They headed for the science labs; breakdown or no breakdown, they still had an appointment to keep, and they couldn't just leave Brainy there wondering what had happened to them.  
LABORATORY #3 was on the door through which Phoebe passed without knocking, one arm still on Lila. There they saw Brainy, standing, staring out a window. His face was reflective, pensive even.  
"Brainy?"  
"Huh?" Snapped from his reflection, he faced the girls. Whatever his expression had been, it immediately changed to concern. "Lila!"  
"I'll be all right; I just need a moment." Before she started talking Brainy was at her other side.  
"We can reschedule this; you can go home if you need to. I should have anticipated this."  
"No, really."  
"Lila," Phoebe put in.  
"No, both of you! I'll be all right. Let's get to work; I can put my problems aside if I'm working on helping other people." Her determination showed as she now set herself to the group project.  
"Are you positive?"  
"Always. I'll cry later. At home. In my room. In private."  
She was resolute; they could see that she was going to see some progress made on the group project that day if she had to do it herself. So, reluctantly, Brainy called the meeting to order.  
  
"I need to start by apologizing for blowing you two off yesterday."  
"Understandable," said Phoebe, "you were on the job and we shouldn't have tried to talk with you while you were working."  
"Well yes, there was that. But you see, like you Friday, like Lila today, yesterday I was to say the least out of sorts."  
"Oh?"  
"I had to schedule an emergency meeting with Dr. Bliss, who just happened to have a Saturday slot open. I think she was expecting that I would need her services; I'd told her what I was going to do on Thursday."  
"The day we got the notes at Helga's."  
"Yes. But enough of my problems, let's get down to business. What did you two find out Friday?"  
  
You had to give Lila credit; when she set her mind to it you wouldn't know there was a thing wrong with her. She and Phoebe made their reports to Brainy, who took in every word without interruption.  
"So it was the play wherein she caught the conscience of the queen." referring to Rhonda's conduct and the reasons therefore. "Or was it the Queen who did the conscience-catching?"  
This brought a much-needed laugh.  
"Well, for what it's worth, I think either of you would've done fine as Juliet. Though not as well as Helga, needless to say."  
"Of course." said Lila.  
"You were Paris in that play, weren't you?"  
"You know I was, miss stage manager. It wasn't easy getting out his lines without blowing my cover; fortunately, he didn't have much to say."  
"I assume you could have done better had you not been so preoccupied with remaining inconspicuous."  
Brainy went into one of his silent moods, then he stood and recited words he had needed years before but which he had apparently lived with every day since.  
  
"Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!  
Most detestable Death, by thee beguiled,  
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown!  
O love, O life! not life, but love in death!"  
  
There was polite, though enthusiastic, applause from the ladies as Brainy took a bow and re-seated himself.  
"Brainy, I don't know what to say. It seemed like you were actually Paris." said Phoebe when she found her voice.  
Brainy nodded, in a thoughtful mood again. "I identify with him." he said. "A young man, incidental to the play, who loves someone who's in love with another. I really did cry over Helga in that scene in the crypt; and when I fought with Arnold, it took an effort to hold back."  
Shocked silence from the ladies. When Brainy broke the spell, he was once more all business.  
"So Rhonda knows, but she won't do anything about it."  
"What?" a startled Lila emitted. "Oh, yes. She gets too much of a charge out of seeing Helga squirm."  
"Not surprising," Brainy said disdainfully. Then his gaze switched to Phoebe. "And Coach Wittenberg female doesn't know but she suspects."  
"Quite. And for the record, I withdrew from the play because of stage fright."  
Yeah, right was the look that passed between Brainy and Lila. Brainy, because he knew Helga; Lila, because Helga had tried the same 'stage fright' routine on her.  
"And from your condition when I first saw you today," continued Brainy, his eyes still on Lila, "I assume Phase 1 was a success, so to speak?"  
"So to speak;" Lila confirmed, a sad frown on her face, "Arnold is free, and I left him within a dozen yards of Helga."  
The two of them filled Brainy in on the remainder of the afternoon's agonizing experience. "She even tried to push Helga in Arnold's direction, literally!" confirmed Phoebe.  
"Really?" Brainy's eyebrows rose, as did his estimation of Lila. "She must've been out of it at the time; that's the only reason why you're still in one piece."  
That provoked another needed laugh.  
  
"Well," said Brainy, "moving on to Phase 2, then. Which is the group project."  
"I still don't see how you're going to be able to reconcile the Patakis." Phoebe said. "In all of the times I've been there I've not exactly been impressed with family togetherness."  
"I'm not going to be able to do it, Phoebe. We are. Us, plus some divine intervention."  
"Oh?"  
"Let me explain. Has Helga ever tried to explain to her family how she felt?"  
"Sporadically."  
"And what happened?"  
"She never gets the chance to fully explain herself. Something always happens, and when the focus is again on her the mood has passed."  
"Suppose she gets that chance to fully explain herself?"  
"How?"  
"She would need to not know that she's doing it." A worried glance from Brainy swept his colleagues. "I won't kid you, this depends on much. And a lot of that much is quite frankly out of our hands. We can only do all that we can and pray to whatever deities we acknowledge for the remainder. Now, what will need to happen is for her to unburden her pain to someone. Someone she trusts implicitly, of course."  
"Dr. Bl--" Phoebe began, before it occurred to her that the others might not know of that part of her best friend.  
"...Bliss?" Brainy finished. "I've known about that from the first session; I was waiting outside with one of those 25 cent rings. How do you think I knew what she told her about Arnold?"  
Phoebe reluctantly nodded, acknowledging this. But as she did so she furtively and with frustration glanced in Lila's direction.  
Brainy continued. "As for whether Lila knew, well, even if she didn't before, she knows now. Like I said, there are to be no secrets about this matter between us."  
Phoebe gave another grudging nod, resigned to the loss of secrecy. "So who would she tell?"  
"Who would she trust?"  
"Well, I'm her best friend."  
"Has she told you what would be necessary for her family to know yet?"  
"No. She knows that I know, so I suppose she doesn't feel it necessary."  
"My thoughts exactly. So we must find someone else, someone whose discretion can be counted on, someone she would trust with her life, with her soul. Someone who has helped her more than she could ever repay, although she keeps trying."  
Brainy's words took a moment to sink in, but once they did Phoebe's reaction was instantaneous. "Arnold?!? You want her to tell Arnold?!?"  
"Exactly."  
Phoebe was now officially beside herself, again. "Brainy, she can't bring herself to tell him just about anything! How do you propose to get her to tell him about her family?"  
"With timing and the proper conditions, it can be done."  
Stone silence reigned in the lab.  
Brainy tried again. "We've already started to work on both of them."  
"'We'?"  
"Yes. You might have noticed that note Arnold got."  
"'Who wrote the little pink book?'. That was you?"  
"Surprised?"  
"I shouldn't be."  
"And there's more where that came from. I have dozens of reminders and points for him to ponder." Brainy continued, absently flipping through a stack of papers in front of him; he was really warming to his task now. "You see, over time Arnold has had odd little glimpses of the real Helga, the kind and caring person she really is. But they have been so few and far between that he might not have really considered the full weight thereof. He's never really stopped and counted. But now he will. Even now, thanks to Lila here," here he indicated the taciturn Lila, "she's being a friend to him after a heartbreak, just like before. He will of course want to return the favor, and this Saturday will be his golden, his only, opportunity."  
"This Saturday?" Phoebe considered for a minute. "Wait, that's her birthday!"  
"So it is, her 13th birthday to be exact. Were she related to Harold, it would be the day she would become a woman; and don't think that hasn't occurred to her."  
"What's the connection?"  
"It will be when she is at her most vulnerable, especially after what you said to her today, Lila." Brainy then shifted his gaze to her, then back to his other colleague. "Phoebe, you're Helga's best friend; what do you remember about her last birthday?"  
Phoebe had to think about that one. "Well, aside from calling her to wish her a happy birthday, not much."  
"I'm not surprised. Her own family doesn't really acknowledge the occasion, though not intentionally." A look mixing anger, frustration and perplexity settled on Brainy's face. "That is one hard family to understand. They're capable of the occasional random act of kindness, every one of them. But when it comes to the day to day regard, simple human consideration..." he trailed off in frustration. Then he re-gathered his resources. "Well, I'll tell you how her birthday goes, because I've observed her last three."  
Eyebrows arose at that remark. "Well, I told you I was obsessed with her. Anyway, you must understand that those I have observed have all been on weekdays so this year might be different, but considering it comes in summer I don't see why it would. It's a typical summer day for her. She sleeps in late; of course no one bothers to wake her. Although there was one other year when Olga was in; Olga barged in early and woke her up with all the 'Happy Birthday' well wishes, which Helga really liked, not. "Sometime around noon she finally drags herself back into the land of the livid. After one phone call --- presumably from you, Phoebe ---" Here he looked straight at Phoebe, who nodded. "she emerges from the house with a couple of books in her hand, a little pink one and a black one that's not so little. She walks to the park, where she selects a secluded spot which others either have not yet discovered or ignore. She writes some in the pink book, reads some out of the black one, writes some more in the pink one. After about an hour, she packs her materials and returns to the house. That is the sum total of the occasion of her birthday."  
"What makes it different from other days?"  
"Other days she doesn't have the black book."  
"And you think that this is the time at which she is the most vulnerable."  
Brainy looked Phoebe directly in the eyes. "How would you feel if your family didn't remember your birthday?" She got the point.  
"So how do we do this?"  
"Well, we know where Helga will be, and when; now it's a matter of getting Arnold there. He and Gerald hang out in the park most Saturday afternoons, so we'll need to get Gerald away from him and point him – point Arnold, that is - in the right direction." Now Brainy turned on the charm, what little he had. "Phoebe, you're the only one here who has a chance of distracting Gerald from Arnold. Would you do this, for Helga?"  
Phoebe could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon than with Gerald, but she gave the impression of mulling it over. "All right, I'll do it for Helga."  
Inwardly, Brainy smiled. He knew Phoebe liked Gerald and was amused that she was covering it up, a trait she had obviously picked up from Helga. "And I'll show you where to send Arnold. The three of us can get the lay of the park this week."  
"Brainy?" Lila finally decided to enter the conversation.  
Brainy's attention, which included lingering concern, shifted to Lila. "Yes?"  
"Well, I can see how this will get Helga to tell what is wrong with her family life, but how will her family find out?"  
Brainy reached under the table at which they were seated. "Because she'll be telling it for the record." As he finished, he brought up a pack of videotapes.  
"Let me see that!" Phoebe exclaimed.  
"I was right; Helga's rubbing off on you. This is the second time in three days you've said that to me." said Brainy. Nevertheless, he complied.  
  
Phoebe gave the tapes the once-over. "These tapes are top of the line!"  
"For what they cost, they'd better be, not that I can't afford it."  
"I mean this isn't one of the brands that you can just walk into a J- Mart and pick up; this is professional equipment."  
"Yes, it is." Brainy turned back to Lila. "Lila, I believe BSLS has sent you and Olga a video camera and tapes for a record of your BSLS activities this summer?"  
"Yes, and somehow I had a funny feeling you already knew that."  
Brainy smiled. "Have you been bird watching lately?"  
"No."  
"Then maybe you should, maybe this Saturday, in the park, I think it was the Fourth of July."  
"What?" came back in stereo.  
"Sorry about that last part, but I just couldn't resist." Nervous laughter, and not just from Brainy. "Seriously, Lila, you'll need to make an appointment with Olga to be in the park at that time."  
"Does this mean we're letting Olga in on this?" asked Phoebe.  
"No, that wouldn't be a good idea. Aside from it being against the rules, well, Olga is nice and only wants the best for her 'baby sister', but, well, do you remember when she was Simmons' aide, and the 'bedwetting' story?"  
"Oh." They got it.  
"But Olga is key to this operation. She will need to be the first in the family to know of Helga's true feelings, and it'll have to be where Helga won't be able to hear her crying jag. And with it on videotape, she'll be able --- when she's in a more lucid frame of mind --- to look at it, even show it to the Pataki parents."  
Phoebe was silently incredulous. "That's your plan?"  
"Yes."  
"Do you have any idea how much of that depends on chance?"  
"Yes I do. I've devoted months to the question of how to rectify things in the Pataki household, and this is the best I've been able to come up with. But if you can come up with anything better..."  
They couldn't and they knew it. After a prolonged silence the best Phoebe could offer was, "Well, it is short notice any way you look at it."  
"I suppose we'll have to put in some time at the park this week." was Lila's contribution.  
"And I guess I'll have to grease the skids a little more." Brainy absently commented as he looked at the stack of papers in front of him.  
"What do you mean by that?" Phoebe demanded.  
Brainy looked back at her and adopted his inscrutable look. "You'll see. Take my word for it, Arnold will make Helga tell him what's wrong with her." Then he gathered his things to leave, after sliding the tapes over to Lila. "Well, I guess that's all for now."  
"That's all?" Phoebe was incredulous.  
"Well, it is if you two want to make that game today at Gerald Field."  
"Oh, I'm ever so certain I'd forgotten all about that!" Lila exclaimed, jumping up.  
"Understandable." Brainy responded. "And we can always schedule another meeting, work out any kinks we can..."  
"Easy for you to say." Phoebe interjected. "You seem to be the one who knows everything about everyone, while we don't even know your name, and don't try to tell me you were born with the name 'Brainy'!"  
Brainy just stared at her. Finally, "Fair enough."  
"Uh-oh." said Lila.  
Phoebe swung back around. "What?"  
"Well, you remember the last time this happened? With you trying to find something out about Brainy, and him staring at you and saying 'fair enough'? It took you the rest of the day and him the rest of the next day to recover."  
"It's all right, Lila." Brainy said. "I could say that either of you could find out as much as I have by keeping the mouth closed and the eyes and ears open, which is true. But if I'm going to impose on the two of you so much, you deserve to know something about me. You're just lucky I'm in the mood to spill my guts, or not so lucky depending on how you look at it." He continued to talk while crossing to the area of the room where the scientific equipment was.  
You had to give credit to whoever put up the money for this particular college library, especially the science labs. Brainy certainly was impressed. "Best supplied science rooms in town, probably. It wouldn't surprise me if the science classes actually meet in here." By now he'd approached a stack of papers that looked like Post-Its.  
"Shall we start with my name?" was the rhetorical question as he grabbed the top sheet and scribbled on it. As he held it up to them, he lit a Bunsen burner.  
"Brainy!" was the alarmed cry from Phoebe.  
"Well, they put these things in here; they obviously mean for them to be used." He then held the sheet of paper with the scribbling toward them. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say what's written here out loud. I'm kind of paranoid about my real name getting out; it's something I'm working through with Dr. Bliss."  
Seconds later, as the sheet of paper touched the Bunsen burner, it instantaneously disappeared.  
Brainy chuckled. "Flash paper. Gotta love it."  
"But I didn't even get a good look at what you wrote!" Phoebe objected.  
"Neither did I." Lila admitted.  
Brainy sighed, then decided on a different tack. "Do either of you have a pad of Post-Its?"  
Phoebe pulled hers out first. As Brainy again wrote, he again admonished his colleagues against saying his name out loud. He showed it to them, made sure they knew what they were reading, then he took the paper and disposed of it with extreme prejudice.  
He attached it to a clamp, which he then touched to a Bunsen burner. As the paper burned, he turned the burner off, then held a mortar under the clamp. As he released the clamp, the burning paper fell into the mortar. When the fire extinguished, Brainy went to work on it, grinding the ashes with a pestle. As he was doing this, he crossed to the sink. Turning on the faucet, he washed the ashes out of the mortar and off of the pestle. After drying the scene with some paper towels, he turned to the amazed faces of Phoebe and Lila.  
"Well I said I was paranoid about that. Shall we go? There's lots for me to tell you and we'd better do it on the way." And with that he was out the door.  
Phoebe and Lila followed, their minds on the events of the evening --- a worthy successor to Friday --- but most immediately on the name they had read, Brainy's apparent name.  
Edward Moore Elkins V.  
  
Well, a cliffhanger, sort of. But it will be brought back from the edge of said cliff soon; oh I have plans for Brainy. I'll have Chapter 12 up soon, because I know exactly what I want to be said and done there, unlike most of these chapters where I had to think about it. Fair warning: it's going to get a bit unbelievable, although imo it will explain some questions raised on the show. Please continue to review, y'all. I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat. Cy'all. 


	12. Confessions of Edward Moore Elkins V

Finally, I put up Chapter 12. It took me longer than I thought it would, which is an old story. I had to re-write whole sections of it and I'm still not satisfied with it. Here it is, take it for what it's worth. Warning, willing suspension of disbelief is a must here.  
  
Acknowledging the reviews, well, as Alan Jackson once said at an awards ceremony, "Y'all are spoiling me, I swear."  
"single best fanfiction on the net", Miss Prongs? I'm flattered, really.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, you'll have a bit of the answer next chapter. And calm yourself; I have good things in store for Helga. As Brainy has said, hasn't she suffered enough for one lifetime?  
n8, you're confused. What I said was that Arnold would turn 13 the first week of summer and Helga would turn 13 the week after.  
Chien, here's about the name. Brainy has been given the name Edward in other fics, and for reasons that will become obvious it had to be Edward in this fic. As to Moore, well, the first high profile Edward I thought of was Senator Edward Moore Kennedy, or as we might better know him Teddy. Sorry for those who disapprove of him --- of which I am one --- but it turned out to make sense anyway.  
Starry Nights, I wouldn't do that.  
JESS, could be.  
J.T., I will return to Helga & Arnold, next chapter.  
Dramagirl310, thank you too.  
And so here it is, Chapter 12.  
  
Hey Arnold is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom.  
  
It took a minute for Phoebe and Lila to collect their things, and Brainy had a good head start on them anyway. By the time they finally caught up to him, he was at the front desk informing the librarian that they were finished with the lab. Phoebe noticed that the librarian, while apparently glad that they --- especially Brainy --- were leaving, was quite respectful to Brainy, even calling him 'sir'.  
Needless to say, Phoebe was once again full of questions. As soon as the trio cleared the confines of the library and were apparently en route to Gerald Field, she started asking.  
"So your name is--"  
"Yes, it is."  
"Are you related to--"  
"Yes, I am." he cut her off for the second consecutive time. Phoebe was angered.  
"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"  
"I can guess. Now that you know my real name the questions you might ask are obvious."  
Again, Phoebe couldn't argue with his logic. So again, she tried another tack.  
"I assume you hid your being rich--"  
"You mean my family being rich."  
By now Phoebe was taking his interruptions in stride. "-- for the same reason you hide your competence, shall we say?"  
"Well, that's part of it."  
"Oh?"  
Brainy stopped, something apparently on his mind. He said nothing, just looked forward as the girls stopped behind him, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, bowed his head momentarily, and then resumed his significant end of the conversation.  
"'Let me tell you about the very rich; they're different from you and me.' --- Ma Joad, 'Grapes of Wrath', John Steinbeck." He then swung around and faced his audience. "Do you really think I want to be lumped in with Rhonda and her crowd? I don't like it at all, not any of the rich families, even you to some extent, Phoebe."  
She bristled. "My family's not rich."  
"Two words: fencing room." She didn't like that at all.  
Brainy continued. "I don't know why, but for some reason I'm just more at home with Curly and Eugene than with Lorenzo and Peapod. If I'm going to be thought of as different, it will be on my own terms."  
"That can't be all of it." Phoebe persisted.  
Again, Brainy sighed and bowed his head, closing his eyes momentarily as well. "You're right; it's not." Shame crept into his face; this bit of information might well have been the hardest he had yet divulged. "You see, those rumors you might have heard, about my family, my ancestors, ...they're all true." His breath became audible, shallow, as his cheeks reddened with the embarrassment. "My ancestors stole everything they ever got; it's all ill-gotten gains." With that he spun on his heel and stalked off. The others, caught unprepared for his sudden departure, found it necessary to run to catch up to him.  
  
When they did, they found him standing on the bank of the Skukumchuk River, looking across it to the renowned Elk Island. He was still downcast, his arms crossed in front of him. He gave off an impression that caused them to still their query-laden tongues; they anticipated quite a story in store from him.  
They were not disappointed as Brainy pointed to Elk Island. "That's where it started."  
"Elk Island? The caves of Wheezin' Ed?"  
Brainy allowed himself a forlorn smile. "This goes back over a century before Wheezin' Ed, actually." The outstretched hand reached back, scratching an itch on its owner's temple, then draping itself over his eyes such as one might when seeing something unbelievable, or when trying to shut out unpleasant memories. The hand moved down to cover his mouth, then returned to his side. Brainy started his walk again, slowly this time. The others fell in step and listened to his fascinating story; as it unfolded, they found themselves joining the few who knew of Brainy's, or maybe I should say Edward's, family history.  
  
"I have told you my name, so to speak. You noticed I attached "the Fifth" to it, so, that would mean that there have been four others. Wait, let me start at the beginning.  
My ancestry has been traced back to the 1400's, although a good amount of it is speculation. But it was always oriented around the sea, the unlawful part of it mind you."  
"They were pirates?" asked Phoebe.  
"Well, not just then they weren't. They were privateers, which meant that when they took the law into their own hands shall we say, it was always against another country. I've heard the oft-told though unsubstantiated stories all my life. The Elkins who sailed up the Pacific Coast with Drake. The Elkins who were among the corsairs, the buccaneers, whatever. But it came down to the early 1800's, one Jean Elkins whose father was a pirate, one of Jean Lafitte's vanished pirate crew."  
"I hadn't heard of that."  
"Well, first, you know that Lafitte was an ally of General Jackson in the War of 1812; in fact, if it hadn't been for Lafitte's assistance, Jackson wouldn't have won at New Orleans." "Yes." "Well, after the war, Lafitte and his men returned to pirating. They set up base on Galveston Island in 1817. They didn't harm any U.S. ships, so our government let them alone. That changed in 1820, when they attacked an American merchant vessel. They'd struck at the U.S., so the U.S. struck back; the next year a warship came out to destroy the colony. To avoid bloodshed, Lafitte and some of his men were permitted to destroy the colony themselves and sail away on one of their ships, which they did, never to be seen again.  
"Except they were seen again, on the other side of the continent. My pirate ancestor, Billy Elkins, was among them. He had told his colleagues of his ancestor who'd sailed up the Pacific Coast with Drake. Lafitte figured --- you understand I got all this from family stories and there's no telling how much is true or false --- that if Drake could do it so could they. So he appointed Billy Elkins as navigator and off they went. After a close call on the Yucatan, the voyage went pretty much without incident. My ancestor, being descended from Drake's men and all, was well educated and he knew the sea pretty well, well enough to navigate that boat all the way around the Horn and on up this side.  
"Once they came upon civilization they fell back on their old ways, piracy. They'd raid a town, a settlement, whatever, and then move on up the coast. Spanish territories, newly independent Mexico, the Barbary Coast, on up here to what was being disputed between Britain, Russia, and the U.S. People would give chase, a few men were lost, but on the whole they did quite well. By the time they got here ol' Billy Elkins was tiring of sea life, so he jumped ship, with quite a store of pirate treasure.  
"It was a miracle that he got away with his life, much less the wealth, but he did. He made his way to shore. That shore." Brainy nodded in the direction of Elk Island. "He set up his base in the caves; saved him the trouble of constructing a shelter. But that's not all he did in the caves. Like I said, he was educated. Before hooking up with Lafitte he'd been to some English university, learned about mathematics, science, engineering--"  
"Why ever did he turn to piracy?" asked Lila.  
"There's no single reason why someone with everything to lose turns to crime. And education doesn't necessarily stop people from doing it. Some of the worst criminals in history have been educated --- Leopold & Loeb, the Nazi high command, Stalin. In my ancestor's case I can only tell you what I've heard --- the sea called to him, it was in his blood, etc. Whatever the reason, he went into piracy and fell in with Lafitte and so followed all the stuff I've been talking about.  
"Like I said, he was educated and..." Brainy trailed off, thinking over the story he'd grown up with. "I gotta level with you; the stories I've heard about the family --- especially ol' Billy Elkins --- are a bit unbelievable. It's like a family version of Mike Fink or Ol' Stormalong, stuff of folk tales. Supposedly, he had a copy of Robinson Crusoe with him from a raid during his pirating days and based a lot of what he did on that. Supposedly, he fashioned some crude measuring instruments and used them to map out the entire cave system. Supposedly, he made a home for himself and was basically a male Martha Stewart only without the fashion sense. I know there has to be some truth to some of it; we have a 200-year- old copy of Robinson Crusoe and a real old --- and accurate --- map of the caves, but I'd be ashamed to tell you the whole thing it's so unbelievable.  
  
"So I'll skip that part. After he turned that island into Shangri-La-- "  
"Sarcastic, are we?" asked Phoebe.  
"You'd understand if there was someone ten feet tall in your family tree. Anyway, supposedly my illustrious ancestor made a boat --- probably contracted it out to Paul Bunyan --- and went exploring here. He supposedly befriended the natives and the trappers and traders. He cut himself in on their fur action, even talked them into not letting Mr. Astor know about it. According to the family legend he married a native princess; it's true at least that he married a native and they had a son who they named Jean after Lafitte.  
"Dear old great-great-great-great-great-granddad traded for books, with which he educated his wife and son. After Jean was educated enough according to his father, he went exploring. He found one of the first settlements on Vancouver Island and sweet-talked one of the girls there into coming back with him. In due course of time they had a son, the original Edward Moore Elkins.  
"His father had wanted to name him after his pirate heroes other than Lafitte, Blackbeard and Captain Morgan. But his mother was a God-fearing woman and was against it. Since not many people knew that Blackbeard's real name was Edward Teach the first name was allowed, but not Morgan. So they compromised on Moore.  
"Until the past few decades, I'm afraid the males in my family liked to walk on the wild side of the law. I told you ol' Billy Elkins --- a former pirate, remember --- had cut himself in on the trappers and traders' action; well, that was putting it mildly. No one did business in this neck of the woods without paying tribute to the Elkins family. Just a little bit, but enough so people knew they'd been taken. The God-fearing women they usually ended up marrying tried to raise their kids right, but somehow it didn't take. And so a pattern was established; one generation after another becoming criminals but giving the appearance of respectability.  
"I'm afraid they did a bit of swindling of the natives too, and stirred up a bit of trouble. It's been theorized that the Elkins family was indirectly responsible for the massacre of Marcus Whitman and his wife and the others in their party. The Elkins themselves escaped retribution by retreating into those caves, which even then had some sort of legend attached to them. Of course they didn't cheat the tribes nearly as much as the government would; it's an old saying in our family that private enterprise never takes as much as the government. Of course, private enterprise doesn't have an army and navy, except maybe the Mafia.  
"Anyway, as this area got settled my family became land barons, controlling most of the property in the area. And they picked up some extra money from the occasional stagecoach robbery or whatever. And when that pig war was going on they holed up in the caves and neither side bothered them. Of course the U.S. won, and there was more opportunity to clean up on land and money, and you can be sure my ancestors capitalized on that too. Oh, they were a respectable bunch of outlaws my family was, and more secure in the caves of Elkins Island than the Devil's Hole gang down in the Badlands."  
"Elkins Island?" Phoebe inquired.  
"Didn't know that was its original name, did you? My family ceded control of it to the governments some decades ago, and the name was summarily shortened to Elk Island to disassociate it from the Elkins name. And just try calling it 'Elkins Island' around some old people around here, like Arnold's grandparents; I won't even try to predict the reaction you'll get --- fear, anger, paranoia. We still own a good piece of it, but my family's not nearly the power around here that we once were.  
"But I haven't told you of the most notorious of my ancestors. But you've already heard of him; he's infamous in local urban legend by his nickname."  
Brainy stopped his narrative, as if to give the girls a chance to guess who he was talking about. Having lived there longer than Lila, Phoebe guessed it first.  
"Wheezin' Ed?"  
"Exactly," Brainy nodded. "My great-grandfather, Edward Moore Elkins III, also known as Wheezin' Ed --- asthma just might run in the family. The undisputed unchallenged head of what organized crime there was around here during the first third of the 20th century. Of course prohibition was a gold mine for him. With how close Canada is, it was no problem for him to smuggle in boatloads of illegal booze. And he had this part of the state, this part of the country, really, basically to himself; not even the Mafia bothered to go west of Minnesota or north of California."  
The trio had covered a great deal of ground during Brainy's monologue, so when he stopped the others didn't protest. He turned once again to face them, to look them in the eyes.  
"So there you have it; here before you stands a young man with a mark of Cain on him, descended from a family of ne'er-do-wells climaxed by the Godfather of the Pacific Northwest. Can you see now why I wouldn't want people to know I was from that family?"  
Phoebe and Lila didn't know what to say, they were so overwhelmed with the revelations. But Phoebe started thinking, and...  
"But you don't live on Elk Island; you live on the same streets as, well, most of the kids I know, present company included." she said, nodding at Lila.  
"You see, my parents had heard what people have been saying about our family. They didn't want me to suffer because I was an Elkins, so while they told me to always be proud of my family, they moved us out here where I could go to school during the school year and no one would have to know what I really was. But we still have quite a spread on the island."  
He was looking at them as he said this, and he could see they were going to need a bit of convincing. "Phoebe, do you remember that time you guys went to Elk Island to look through the caves for the treasure of Wheezin' Ed?"  
"Yes."  
Lila looked at her, curious. Phoebe explained.  
"There's been rumors of treasure in those caves. We went there and looked but all we found was a counterfeit penny operation."  
"That's right." confirmed Brainy. "And do you remember what else you found there, or should I say who?"  
She was having trouble with this one.  
"When Helga screamed, and the rest of you came running? You forgot you were holding a flashlight?"  
Slowly, it came to her. "Oh. Oh." She went silent, then, "We saw you."  
He nodded. "And may I say your 'swordplay' was impressive."  
"Um, thank you. What were you doing there anyway?"  
"Uh, something?"  
"Very funny. That's exactly what he said then too, word for word." Phoebe added, looking at Lila.  
"But really," Brainy said, "What was I doing there? How did I get there?"  
"Sheena's uncle brought you over, like he did us?"  
"It would have had to have been before he brought you, since there wouldn't have been enough time for him to go to that fish & chips place, find out about the counterfeit penny, get drawn into the police investigation, and so forth. But if he'd brought me over before you, why didn't he tell you?"  
"What makes you think he didn't?"  
"If he had, you wouldn't have asked what I was doing there."  
"Well, um, maybe you rented a boat yourself."  
"A nine year old? They don't rent to people that young and you know it."  
She was having trouble thinking of another reason.  
"And another thing; why didn't I come back with the rest of you? And was it just coincidence that I just happened to be in the exact spot in those caves where Arnold & Helga would find me? And didn't you notice any figures on the wall that bore a passing resemblance to me? And--"  
"All right, you've convinced me!"  
"Really Phoebe, you guys should have let me know you were coming; I know every inch of those caves--"  
"Brainy! You've explained enough, and I'm now prepared to believe that you are indeed from the first family of Hillwood which has a mansion on Elk Island and which used to own half the town already, all right?"  
Phoebe was hot now; she'd had enough of Brainy's explanations and the perfect sense they made. She pushed past both him and Lila; now she was setting the pace for them en route to Gerald Field.  
  
Lila walked alongside Brainy. She'd been silent through Brainy's story and the occasional ripostes with Phoebe, but now that it had seemingly broken off, she had some questions of her own. There were things she wanted to know about him.  
"Brainy?"  
"Yes, Lila?"  
"Would you please tell me the rest of the story of your family? I'm ever so certain I'd like to hear it."  
"Well, we'd better hang back another step; I don't want to disturb Phoebe any more than I already have."  
A snort was heard from ahead of them, signaling that Phoebe had heard that.  
"Well, where did I leave off?"  
"You were telling about your great-grandfather Wheezin' Ed."  
"Oh yeah. Well, it was after him that my family saw the light, so to speak. You see--"  
By now they were passing the city park. To be specific, they were passing the section of the park used for the annual Chinese Checkers tournaments. Brainy froze, in his step and in his speech, at the gateway.  
The cessation was so sudden that even Phoebe stopped, curious as to what other revelations he would divulge. She walked back to join Brainy and Lila. Brainy's eyes were fastened to the gateway, his lips pressed tightly to each other.  
"It used to be here." he finally said.  
"What did?" Lila asked.  
Brainy's eyes closed, his head shook, and then he returned to the conversation.  
"Actually, it's appropriate we should happen to be here just as I was about to tell you about my great-grandmother Tina!"  
"Oh?"  
"Best decision ol' Wheezin' Ed ever made was to marry her. She was another in the line of God-fearing Elkins women, but in her case it actually took; since then, starting with my grandfather, we've gotten out of the 'family business' as they call it.  
"It's taken some doing, but we're clean now, my family. We have been for decades, although we do still have a bit of pull which we use on rare occasion. My parents used it to hide my real name; even in my school records I'm 'Brainy'. And I used it when I reserved that science lab for our meeting today. All I had to do was call the college president and say 'Mr. Elkins would like...', and fill in the blank. My family has contributed a lot of money to the college over the years. And some people are still afraid of the family name; we're still heavily involved in local business and industry."  
"But not in illegal activities."  
"Right. After Wheezin' Ed made his big exit the family pulled out of that stuff as well and as quickly as they could. They sold huge portions of their properties to get money to try to atone for what they'd done over the years. Including much of the land we'd owned. The statutes of limitations on the family's criminal activities had run out, but Great-grandma wouldn't let us get off that easy. She led the way in the family trying to make restitution where we could. We'd sell land, businesses, whatever; and then use the money for good works, public works, start foundations or something, give to the descendants of those who'd been wronged, whatever."  
"And all this was because of your grandmother." Lila stated.  
"Great-grandmother." Brainy corrected. "Yes, my great-grandma Tina." He gestured toward the gateway before which they still stood. "This park was one of those public works I mentioned. My grandfather, Edward Moore Elkins IV, dedicated this park, named it after her. We have some pictures at home of the old days of Tina Park."  
"The name must have changed some time ago; I've always known it as just the park." Phoebe put in.  
"And your family came here from Kentucky when, the '80's?" Brainy countered.  
"Well, yes, I believe that was approximately when they moved." Phoebe confessed.  
"I think the name changed in the '70's, but I'm not sure. When we sold it to Smythe-Higgins, it was with the stipulation that the name remain the same. I guess we could take him to court on not living up to that, but we just don't want to bother with it. We just let others --- the Van Burens, the Smythe-Higgins', and so on --- get bigger while we pulled back from the rich and whatever. The family just didn't want to get into it, whatever 'it' was, didn't want to connect with their shady past. They even gave my dad a different name to break from the past. I got the name in an effort to redeem it..."  
By this time he was tiring, and it showed. He was leaning on the post from which the gate used to hang, his hand to his forehead as he trailed off.  
"We should go." Phoebe finally said.  
"Right", Brainy said as he snapped to attention. "There is one more place for you two to see, though." he continued, in conversation and in step. "Fortunately, it's on the way."  
  
Five minutes later they were in a somewhat less park-like part of town, approaching an institution that was quite familiar to them. Well, familiar to two of them. As they reached the building, Phoebe and Lila stopped. But Brainy kept walking. He stepped up to the wrought iron fence extending from the other side of the building, climbed it and continued on to the back door.  
"Hey, we're not allowed in there at this time of, well, this time, we're not allowed in there now!" Phoebe stammered as she and Lila made their way to the fence.  
"So I'll leave if I'm told to." Brainy called back, finally stopping with his nose an inch from the door. He turned to face them, his arms sweeping upward. "Recognize this place, Phoebe?"  
Phoebe's face frowned as she considered the structure. "Yes, it's Urban Tots Preschool."  
Brainy nodded, then his focus shifted back to Lila. "This is where we all went to preschool, pretty much everyone you met on your first day at P.S.118. The whole gang." he trailed off again, turning back to look through the plate glass that was the doors. "And that's where I was on that first day." Here he pointed to a certain spot somewhere in the back of the front room. As his arm lowered, a sigh escaped his lips, and a thoughtful look came upon his face.  
He turned to his left, away from them, and walked over to the bench, where he sat. Arms folded, eyes closed, head shaking with who-knows-what memories of childhood. He knew, and he proceeded to share said memories with his audience.  
  
"I was a pretty messed-up kid back then; I guess I still am, but I hope I'm a bit farther on the road to normalcy now than I was then. I have good parents, mind you. There was never any doubt that they loved me, and they still do. They also want the best for me, and I got that loud & clear too. They've raised me right, with one exception: they never really disciplined me. Basically, they pretty much let me do what I want. It's a good thing I'm the compliant type or things would have gotten very ugly. They were raised on Schlock and in turn they raised me on Lip-sht, excuse my language but that's just what I think about him. Which means that any form of physical correction was out of the question. Maybe some kids don't need that, but I did, and I didn't get it. The only reason I didn't become a hell-raiser before preschool was I had been impressed with the evil legacy of our family and how important it was for us to redeem it, to make up for the wrongs our ancestors had done. Plus I've always wanted to please my parents.  
"Anyway, skip ahead to the first day of preschool. There I was, a three-year-old who'd never been subjected to anything approaching hardship, just looking for someone to say 'no' to me. Compounding the problem, I was, as I am now, shy to the extreme. Plus, I was three."  
"So you were three; what does that have to do with anything?" Phoebe asked.  
Brainy turned around on the bench to face them. "What? Oh. Well, I guess I wouldn't know myself if Dr. Bliss hadn't clued me in. But you should already know, Phoebe." Now it was Brainy's turn to be puzzled as he gazed on her. "I know that you know about Freud and all that."  
"Oh. You were in that stage." Phoebe said simply.  
Brainy nodded. "I was getting there, at least."  
"Excuse me?" Lila interposed. "Could someone explain to me what you're talking about?"  
"You tell her, Phoebe."  
"All right. You see, Lila, according to Freud, at about the age of three one enters the stage of development which includes the Oedipus complex, or if you're a girl the Electra complex."  
"That's right, and it was the case with me, apparently." Brainy interrupted. "Any day then I was supposed to start getting unnaturally attached to my mother. Preschool, however, changed the plan."  
"That was when you fell in love with Helga?" Lila asked.  
"Exactly. There I was, just trying to stay out of the way, trying to hide basically. I had a pretty good view of the front doors over there," he gestured to his right, "and I was just watching who was coming in. There was nothing that really impressed me --- no offense, Phoebe, since that included you."  
"None taken."  
"Then I saw her, the most miserable person I'd ever seen. It was raining and she looked like she'd walked all the way from her house in the rain. As I later found out, she had. Mud-splattered, no lunch, just basically like she didn't have a friend in the world. Then a green Packard pulled up behind her, and a little boy came out of it. A football-headed kid, with a little blue hat and a blue umbrella, which he shared with her."  
  
"Arnold." Phoebe guessed.  
"Arnold. As soon as she noticed it wasn't raining on her anymore and that he was there, he said something nice to her --- I couldn't hear it from inside, but I later found out that he said he liked her bow and that explains a lot --- and came inside. She just looked at him, her arms up on the glass, and then she smiled, the most glorious smile I'd ever seen. It was the most beautiful sight, she, was the most beautiful sight, in all her muddy bedraggled glory. How could I not love her on sight."  
  
Brainy's tale of woe was having its effect as by now Lila was in tears, for at least the third time that day. Phoebe was holding up somewhat better. But Brainy wasn't finished yet.  
"I haven't told you about when we --- Helga and I --- passed the point of no return. It was snack time. Helga had been trying to make herself attractive to Arnold, trying to get him to notice her. Of course we know that he was the first who had really shown her kindness and she then psychologically latched on to him. She was at that stage too, and I guess she was about to enter the Electra Complex – an attachment to Big Bob Pataki, of all people." Brainy shook his head with disgust, or revulsion, or compassion, or something. "She was concentrating on him so much she didn't notice Harold stealing her crackers until they were practically in his mouth. Laughed as he did it too. He was a bully even then. Brought her to tears. Why some people like to do that is still a mystery to me.  
"Of course, Arnold being Arnold, he gave her his crackers. He was so nice about it, smiled at her and everything, which I admit goes without saying. And she was smitten anew.  
"Then it happened; other kids noticed and started to laugh at her. Of course Harold took the lead on that, but he wasn't the only one. Rhonda, Sid, Stinky, they were all laughing at her. I could see the conflict she was going through, she really wanted to be nice. Especially with Arnold looking at her, like he was saying 'what are you going to do about this?'  
"But it was too much for her. Her weakness is being laughed at; she can't stand it. As much as she wanted to be good, as much as she wanted to impress Arnold with nice-ness like he'd impressed her, the laughter got to her. She snapped. She jumped on top of Harold, and the bully was born. Ol' Betsy, the Five Avengers, and all. It was heartbreaking to see that, and yet, I found it irresistibly alluring.  
"Later, during arts & crafts or whatever, she was going around establishing her authority. She was the boss. Then she saw Arnold again, and she looked for a place where she could be alone. As soon as she found that place I followed her there; I had to tell her how I felt. I came upon her; she was talking to a locket of Arnold, how she got it I don't know. She was saying, 'I love you Arnold and I wanna marry you'. I was so excited, her being so close and in a romantic mood. But then my asthma went into overdrive; I started to wheeze uncontrollably. Of course she heard me. And of course she hit me. That fist in my face sealed my fate; from then on no one was as infatuated as I was, not even her.  
  
"Since then, I've repeated the process as often as I could. She shouts at him or whatever, she goes looking for a place to be alone, she pours out her heart to him in absentia, I come up behind her wanting to do the same, the wheezing, the fist, repeat the next day. Or later that same day. It got to where if she didn't pound me I'd have to do it to myself or I'd get the shakes, the sweats, hyperventilation, convulsions if I let it go that far. I guess I've become a masochist. But on rare occasion she'd touch my face, just a little pat; that was a gift from Heaven.  
"Two, three years ago, right after she started going to Dr. Bliss, she stopped hitting me; I've been going through hell ever since. Oh, I'd hit myself, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't until I started seeing Dr. Bliss that I figured out what was going on.  
"It seems that at the time that I should have been developing feelings for the dominant female in my life, my mother, Helga became the dominant female in my life. And I took the punishment she dished out in place of what I wasn't getting at home. I welcomed it, I wanted more of it. So by now I'm messed up, only now I know what's going on and I'm trying to do something about it.  
"Like I already told you, maybe when I get Helga together with Arnold, I'll be better able to get over my obsession with her and hopefully move on with my life."  
  
And with this, Brainy's mouth snapped shut. It became obvious that he was finished. At least since Arnold came into the story, the audience of two had been spellbound. But again Phoebe was thinking, and again she voiced objections.  
"Brainy, I'm impressed. All of those two dollar words and concepts, as Stinky would call them."  
"All right, so I'm gifted. You think I want to be sent to an advanced school, or even skipped ahead a grade or two like you were?"  
That hit home with Phoebe. "Point taken. But how is it that you remember events from when you were three with such clarity? Don't tell me you have a photographic memory too."  
"All right, I won't tell you."  
"Really? You have a photographic memory?"  
"You told me not to tell. But it shouldn't be such a surprise; people can have excellent recall of what's important to them, and I think I've established how important Helga is to me."  
  
There was nothing more to be said. At least, not until Brainy looked at his watch.  
"Oops, you two had better get going. If you start now you should reach Gerald Field in time for practice. Don't want to give Helga another reason to be upset."  
Phoebe turned to go, but Lila held back for a minute. "What about you?"  
"We geeks are on the bench; our presence is not necessary at practices."  
"What are you going to do then?"  
"Try to bury some ghosts from my past. It was here my love for Helga was born, and it's here it must die. As someone said, 'Do as I bid thee, go.'"  
With that, Brainy turned his back on Lila. Things were starting to get to him, and he didn't want her to see him upset.  
But Lila stayed for one more attempt. "Brainy..."  
"Don't you have a ball game to get to?" was all that came from him.  
Lila gave up then; she turned, and ran to catch up to Phoebe.  
Brainy, true to his word, stayed for a while. He walked from the bench to the carousel, and then back. He then reached into a pocket and pulled out a straw and a sheet of paper. He tore the paper, and in due course of time it was reduced to so many spit-balls. Then Brainy used the spit-balls as he'd seen Helga do, how many times, hundreds, thousands? From appearances, he was engaged in spit-ball target practice, aiming between the bars in the fence. Satisfied, he returned the straw to his pocket.  
He then walked to the carousel again, and fell onto it. He was weeping now at what he could never have, at what he had to do. He closed his eyes, and again he was Paris. He recited more lines with which he was intimately acquainted.  
  
"Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew---  
O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones!---  
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,  
Or wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans.  
The obsequies that I for thee will keep  
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep."  
  
"O, I am slain! If thou be merciful,  
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet."  
  
And again the tears came.  
  
Folks, I have to leave a half hour ago so I'll keep this short. Please review. Next chapter I will get back to Arnold & Helga and in succeeding chapters things that don't seem to make sense here will. Cy'all. 


	13. Remembrances of the Week That Was

Well, I finally updated, just in time to keep this fic from going off the front page. I'll admit that 'April Fools' episode threw me for a loop. How could they have given Helga's birthday as being in March; this whole thing depends on it being in summer, argh! Well, I'm going ahead with this anyway as if that little tidbit had not been revealed. In the words of the immortal Bugs Bunny, eh, maybe we can fix it in the editing. It's going to take some kind of revision, however, until which I'm reluctant to submit this to Gerald's Library, and I'd appreciate any suggestion y'all might make.  
  
Wow, again so many reviews! Do y'all realize that now I have an average of seven reviews per chapter? It's humbling, really, knowing y'all like this effort so much. Lessee, in the order in which y'all reviewed...  
Chien, thanks. I thought it would.  
Starry Nights, wow. Thanks. I got the Lafitte info from the encyclopedia (and my imagination), the psychological info from my old psych textbook from college --- yes, I'm that old. And you are correct, and I'm not done with that other show yet either.  
Poison Ivory, thanks. I have tried so much not to go ooc with anyone. Brainy is different; I pretty much have a blank slate and ideas to spare. I do have an explanation for Haunted Train, and only lack an opportunity to use it, which might crop up without warning the way this fic has been going. And thanks for the backup on voices. How could I have forgotten "What's Opera, Arnold?" --- a tribute to the late Chuck Jones --- in my research? Fortunately, I saw it a couple days after your post and I must say you're right, although I didn't find her voice that grating but that's just me.  
JESS, kewl. Here's your lucky chapter, maybe not so lucky for me.  
J.T., to quote Saturn, you're welcome. Here's Helga & Arnold. And I think we're on the same page.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks. I was pleased at how well it came together; then again, I was amazed at how much sense my theory made based on "Wheezin' Ed", without which this fic would not have been possible. Don't worry about Brainy; I have plans for him as well and methinks some here already know what they are. And as you know I have come back to Kim's board. I'm reminded of what Meatball Bonfetti once said in the Khrushchev List ep of Scarecrow & Mrs. King: "They are a shy & sensitive bunch, as you can see." Eventually I'll fit in; in the meantime, I can use the occasional slapdown as an antidote for the sweetness of these reviews lol. Maybe I'll get the hang of it one of these days.  
n8, channeling Mr. Hyunh, are we? I can relate; sometimes on a chat for some odd reason the subject of lint comes up and I go off.  
Mystic Rains, thank you ever so much (and I'm not sorry for the Lila ref). I could see Brainy as Paris. Those with sharp eyes will notice in the School Play ep that it was Curly in that scene in the crypt, but we all know that Curly was Mercutio in that play. And just before the play Brainy was among those in costume. Also, Paris' costume in the crypt scene was all wrong iirc. So I put Brainy as Paris; it just fits. Also, I hadn't considered that as a factor in Phoebe's chagrin, but it makes sense and I'll see what I can do about working it in. As to your review of that other chapter (blushes), um, yeah, it does.  
Ryoko-onee (yay, another Tenchi fan), thank you. The couples are going to be as you have mentioned them. Eventually Helga and Brainy will come to an understanding, but not for a long, long time. I have plans for these characters that if they come to fruition will extend decades into their futures, although not necessarily in such detail as this fic is. Helga will continue to not even really notice Brainy, but someday...  
  
Fair warning: the spacing might confuse y'all; it confused me as I wasn't sure how to space things. Any suggestions will be taken and considered. Please read & review, y'all.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, & / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. This chapter contains gratuitous clips from numerous HA! eps, and their presence alongside my own clips in no way signifies that I think myself as being anywhere close to the level of Mr. Bartlett.  
  
Phoebe and Lila made it to Gerald Field just in time for Helga to not blow her top. The rest of the gang was already there.  
"Well it's about time! Now you get your can into right field, Lila."  
"I'm ever so certain that I just love right field, Helga. In fact it's just--"  
"Don't start with me, farm girl. You said the exact same thing about center field; now just get out there."  
Lila caught Helga's eye then. No one was really looking at them, but if one had he or she might have noticed something passing between them. Whatever it was, Helga was first to break the gaze, looking down toward the ground. As Lila walked out to her assigned position, Helga continued to issue orders.  
"Speaking of center field, that's where you are, Princess. Stinko, you're in left field."  
Meanwhile, Arnold & Gerald were having a talk.  
"So what happened at the park, man?"  
Arnold cast his gaze after Lila's retreating form. "sigh Let's just say I know where I stand now."  
Gerald read the look on his friend's face. "Aw, she dumped you, huh?"  
  
"She already had. This was more of a cutoff. She's made it clear that I should give up on her."  
"I'm sorry, my friend."  
"Thanks. But you know? I feel better since I talked about it with someone."  
"Oh. Well, I'm glad I could be there for you." Gerald said. He would never have guessed that Arnold was referring to Helga.  
As usual, Arnold let such things slide. "Right, Gerald."  
"Hey! Hair boys!" Helga had been trying to get their attention.  
Arnold --- and for that matter Gerald --- was caught by surprise. "What?"  
"I said you two are in the infield, and I'd better see some double plays from you two and Phoebe."  
"Phoebe?" Gerald asked.  
"Yeah, I said she was at first, you're at second, and of course the Short Man's shortstop, doi! If you'd been paying attention, you'd know. Sid, you take the hot corner."  
"Third base?!? Aw, man!"  
"You heard me."  
"But boy howdy, Helga, the only thing worse than being in right field where the ball never comes, is to be at third base. Every line drive will have my name written on it!"  
"Let pink boy worry about that; if someone gets a line drive it'll be off him."  
Harold heard that. "Wait, Helga, you're confusing me! You mean I'm back at pitcher?"  
"Doi, that's what I said. Now get on the mound!"  
And so he did, muttering, "Madame Fortress Mommy!" as he went.  
The others walked to their spots in the field; Phoebe, however, had other ideas. "I'll be right there." she said to Gerald before she ducked behind the backstop. The wooden backstop, not the chain-link one.  
  
This was a tradition that she and Helga had developed over time; Phoebe did this when there was something she needed to discuss with Helga. Of course Helga soon joined her behind the backstop.  
"So, Pheebs, what's it about?"  
"That was unexpected, you switching back with Harold."  
"Eh, he can have the mound. More people pay attention to the pitcher, but it's the catcher who's boss. You think Don Larsen would've thrown that perfect game if he hadn't gone with Yogi Berra's signals?"  
"Um, I guess not."  
"That's right, he wouldn't have. But you didn't call me back here to talk about that."  
"Right. I was just wondering how your 'ice cream' was."  
"Oh, um, well, what can I say, we talked, I think it's going to be all right, eventually. What about Miss Perfect? How's she taking dumping the chump?"  
"Well, she's been pretty broken up about it, but she said she had to do it. I saw her push you; are you going to do anything about it?"  
"Why should I? None of us were thinking clearly. I'll let it go this time. Look, I'll call you about it tonight. Now c'mon, we'd better get out there."  
"Right."  
"Oh, and Phoebe..."  
"Forgetting."  
With that, they emerged from the backstop. "Okkay, batter up!" Helga called the game to order.  
  
So went the rest of the day. Just a normal Sunday afternoon and evening. So went the week, normally. The kids managed to keep busy; in addition to the group projects, there were practices, or games, or in Harold's case a job, or just goofing around.  
Oh, the group projects? Well, of course they were secret, but if one had been paying attention one might have noticed them doing certain things. Arnold, Gerald & Helga seemed to be mostly holed up in the boarding house; whatever they were doing seemed to be centered there. Nadine, Rhonda & Sid seemed to be similarly involved with regard to the Lloyd building. Curly, Harold & Stinky could be seen going back forth between Stinky's ever- growing garden, the butcher shop, and the zoo. Eugene, Lorenzo & Sheena's movements could not be immediately gauged on sight; but they were doing something.  
Brainy, Lila & Phoebe were also on the run that week. Whatever they were doing, it was in the park, and it apparently required clockwork precision. They could be seen looking at their watches at various points during their activities, including when they were together, as if they were synchronizing them. At times, if one had been observant, one might have noticed Brainy appearing to take notes.  
Sometimes Helga would be hanging with her best friend Phoebe, which would be pretty much normal. Which left best friends Arnold & Gerald to do things together, again which would be pretty much normal. Eugene & Sheena would also do things together. As would Rhonda & Nadine. And the Terrible Trio --- Harold, Sid & Stinky. And Lila could be seen doing Big Sis Little Sis activities with Olga; word was that there was a standing invitation for Helga to join them, which she apparently had declined. Brainy, Curly, Lorenzo? They pretty much kept to themselves, apparently. Or at least they weren't seen around town when they weren't doing things with groups large or small. Except for Curly, who was sporadically seen generally running amok.  
In short, it was as normal a week as any week for the kids of P.S. 118. Somewhat active.  
  
Friday evening was by contrast calm, restful, or at least it was for a certain couple of blondes. Helga was engaged in one of her chief pursuits, writing in one of her little pink her books within sight of a likeness of her muse. Presently, her writing hand drew to her mouth, her eyes almost shut. She was thinking, remembering...  
  
"...if you wanted to play Juliet because you really like Arnold, and you wanted to kiss him or something, well I sure could understand that. I guess I'd think it was ever so sweet, and I wouldn't mind giving up the part so you could do it."  
"You mean, if I said I liked Arnold, you would let me play Juliet?"  
"Sure, Helga..."  
  
So she-- wait, she never did mind me liking him, and... no, I can't accept that. I mean, she knew, and that smug look on her face while I was struggling to get it out.  
  
"I kind of had a funny feeling you liked him."  
  
There! She even admitted it; she knew! She's known how I feel about Arnold for how many years? And she still led him on, she even went to that cheese festival with him that one time.  
  
Remember the parrot?  
  
The parrot? What brought that on?  
  
Maybe there's a connection. That cheese festival was right after your monitor ate Big Bob's parrot, that Arnold had adopted. Lila grabbed his hand the moment it happened, remember?  
  
So she went out with him because she felt sorry for him?  
  
Maybe.  
  
A likely story.  
  
Remember Rhonda's costume party?  
  
What about it?  
  
You got her to train you to be like her.  
  
So?  
  
She knows you like like Arnold, she knows that Arnold like likes her, she knew that you wanted to be just like her. You do the math.  
  
I hate math! I'm good at it, but I hate it.  
  
You're avoiding the issue.  
  
So what's new?  
  
You can't keep it up indefinitely. Remember? You showed up as her, and she hugged you! And remember her conversation with Arnold later?  
  
"Hi Arnold. Wherever have you been? I mean, I'm ever so certain I haven't seen you at all tonight."  
"I've been hanging out with Helga."  
"Helga? Well, gee, that sounds nice."  
  
Did she make a move on him then? No, he invited her to go get some punch.  
  
So that would mean she... no, I can't believe it, I won't believe it! She is an evil woman! She's a maneater!  
  
A maneater?  
  
Yes! Just like that surf skank Summer!  
  
Do you really believe that?  
  
Yes!  
  
Sounds like you're having trouble convincing yourself.  
  
I... sigh, leave me alone. What kind of a conscience are you anyway? I can't even see you.  
  
I suppose you'd prefer a winged Arnold.  
  
Well hey, it worked.  
  
And wearing only a loincloth. I wonder what Dr. Bliss would say about that.  
  
Just leave me alone.  
  
Remember Sunday?  
  
"It started with words someone wrote on a wall, 'Arnold loves Lila'. I hadn't even thought of you as more than a friend until then, and you certainly hadn't; you told me so..."  
  
It had all been my fault  
  
"...by indulging you in your deeds, I've been manipulating you, causing you to think that there's a possibility that my feelings for you could change back. Arnold, that's not going to happen..."  
  
Wasn't she giving him the brush-off, clearing the path for you?  
  
Um...  
  
"I won't like like you, not ever. I know that you're not the oh so special someone I'm looking for. And logically, it would follow that I'm not the oh so special someone you're looking for."  
  
Wasn't she?  
  
"There's someone else for you, Arnold, and I have to let you go. You need to be there for her when she comes, and she will come, Arnold."  
  
She couldn't have been talking about me! Um, could she have?  
  
DOI! Did I ever tell you how astute you are?  
  
Well, there's no need to be sarcastic, criminey!  
  
That's debatable. Don't you remember what she said to you that day?  
  
Please don't make me remember that.  
  
Someone should.  
  
No...  
  
"...I did what I had to do. I set him free. Now, what are you going to do about it? ...you no longer have to worry about Arnold falling for me because I will take steps to keep that from happening..."  
  
She was clearing the way for you.  
  
Do you know how hard it is for me to relive this?  
  
Suck it up; it has to be done. You can't keep sweeping it under the rug no matter what Big Bob says.  
  
Awww, why did you have to put it like that?  
  
"...The next girl might not be so understanding, and there probably will be a next girl soon enough. You told me your secret years ago, and since then you have done nothing to act on it. Well, you would be well advised to do so now. Next time I might not be able to help you..."  
  
She was trying to help me?  
  
Wasn't she?  
  
I, I...  
  
Wasn't she trying to get you together with Arnold?  
  
Umm...  
  
"Go to him, Helga. Go to him now! Do something, say something... Go on! Go to him!"  
  
She was trying to get you together with him; that's not even debatable.  
  
"...she's been pretty broken up about it, but she said she had to do it. I saw her push you..."  
  
But by now Helga had had quite enough. She found herself shouting at herself. "Shut up! I don't want to hear any more of this, I don't want to think that she might actually be trying to help me. I don't want to think about this anymore!"  
She was prostrate now, screaming, kicking, pounding the floor; when the door opened. Her parents stood there with expressions that on anyone else would've been concern. Their expressions, well, it's kind of hard to tell what they were thinking. Mercifully, the only light that was on in her room was a small light by which she had been writing; so Bob and Miriam didn't get a good look at the shrine, which would have been mortifying to say the least.  
'Deer in the headlights' would be the title for the look in Helga's eyes before she managed a pathetic smile, like she'd done many times before.  
Scowl, grimace, groan, sigh, rolling eyes --- all this was just a part of what could be seen and heard in and around the area of Bob Pataki's head. Finally, he turned on his heel and stalked back downstairs. Miriam was hot on his heels as the door closed.  
Relieved at the passing of yet another mini-crisis, Helga closed the door to her closet to make her commune more private. Her hackles, momentarily lowered, automatically ascended again with the report of a knock on the door and her mother's slurred voice.  
"Helga, did you remember to take your constipation medicine?"  
"sigh Yes, Miriam." For some reason, her need for her medication had increased recently. Maybe it was hormones, or maybe the stress was getting to her more than it had been; who knew.  
Helga then addressed herself to the image of her beloved. "Oh, orzo- shaped Prometheus..."  
  
Meanwhile, several blocks away, the object of her adoration was in a similarly contemplative mood. It being Friday, Arnold had the checkers table set out and ready for the advent of his best friend. Arnold himself was mostly on his bed, face down.  
The part of him that wasn't on his bed was his head and shoulders, together with his arms. He was examining one of his birthday presents from the previous Saturday, one he had received just before midnight; someone at the shipping office had made a special errand and had taken the opportunity to partake of some holiday cheer --- no, not that kind.  
It was a boxed set of the greatest hits of Dino Spumoni, together with a compact disk, the latest project from Dino Spumoni, sent directly to him by Dino himself. The cover art was a frontal shot of Dino leaning over a piano, with Don Reynolds at the keyboard. The title: "Simply Us"; apparently Dino was finally giving his long-time best friend and collaborator some overdue credit.  
All was apparently right in their world, Arnold thought, noticing the duo's happy, relaxed expressions. It might all have been a put-on such as was the primary language of Tinseltown, but he had heard on the radio and seen on television recent stories about his favorite singer having turned his life around, even reconciling with his formerly disowned and disinherited daughter Nancy.  
Arnold took some measure of satisfaction at these recent developments, and whatever part he might have played in same. He didn't do what he did for any type of reward, but he did like it when people succeeded on a personal level based on advice from him.  
Mentally patting himself on the back, Arnold again read the handwritten letter which had accompanied the present.  
  
Hey Arnold,  
I hear it's your thirteenth birthday. That's one of the biggies in a man's life. I remember my thirteenth birthday; my old man took me aside and gave me the lowdown on the facts of life. But I won't do that for you; I get the feeling you might have some idea what's what, maybe because I never did get my paperback 'I, the Jury' back. But fugeddaboudit, consider it an earlier birthday present. Mark your calendar, kid; when you hit sixteen I'm takin' you to Vegas. Until then, I hear they're finally fixing up the Circle Theater. Don't tell no one, but Don and the boys and I are making plans to open it with a concert next year. We already have the first ticket reserved for you. We'll be expecting you to show up and bring your friends with you; be there or I'll come looking for you, and I know where you live.  
  
Again, happy birthday kid.  
Sincerely,  
Dino.  
  
As he finished re-reading the letter, again, Arnold's attention was grabbed by a sound from his door.  
  
"Gerald?" He was at the door in five seconds. He opened the door, to find no one there. No one on the personal stairs down to the second floor, either. He descended and looked up and down the hall; nobody.  
He returned to his room, scratching his head over the source of the noise. As he crossed the threshold of the room his eyes went down, spotting a piece of paper in the doorway.  
Soon, it was in his hands, his eyes devouring any written matter on it. One side was folded over and seemed to be stuck to itself; on the other side were written four words.  
  
"Who found your hat?"  
  
Helga? he thought. Now the gray matter within him had finally been stirred into high, or at least moderate, dudgeon. The piece of paper in his hand, food for thought threatening to surfeit his brain, Arnold fell onto his bed in the familiar flaking out pose, head on his pillow, eyes partially closed and in the direction of the ceiling / windows.  
Remembering...  
  
CRASH  
"Arnold!"  
"Sorry, Helga."  
"I mean, watch where you're going, football-head!"  
  
Strange, she shook her head just before her tone changed. And why am I always bumping into her anyway?  
  
"GASP!! Helga! You found my hat!!"  
"Oh, is that your hat?"  
"I can't believe it! Thanks, Helga, thanks a lot!"  
  
And then I hugged her. There was, what was that I heard? A sigh, then a slap, then...  
  
"Yuck! Who said you could touch me?"  
"Sorry. I couldn't help it."  
"You tryin' to make me sick or sump'n'? Take your stupid hat and get outta here!"  
"Okkay. Thanks again, Helga."  
  
She did find my hat. Come to think of it, she looked like she'd been crawling through dumpsters. shrug She can be nice, sometimes.  
His mind went back to another time...  
  
"Arnold! Arnold!"  
"Forget it, Helga. I'm waiting for Summer."  
"She's over here."  
  
"Sorry, Arnold."  
"You were right the whole time, Helga."  
  
"Sorry I didn't listen to you, Helga. Guess you were really just trying to be my friend."  
"Yeah, well, I figured it was the right thing to do. I mean, she was taking advantage of you, and, I couldn't just,...  
  
She was trying to be my friend? To do the right thing? Well, she can be nice when she wants to be. So why is it usually so hard for her to be nice?  
  
"Y'know, it's funny that people would hate you so much just for acting nice and polite."  
"Well, I'll tell ya, football-head, it's a funny world."  
"Personally, I thought you were great out there. It's the first time I ever saw you, well, being nice. I liked it."  
"You did?"  
"Yeah. Why can't you act nice like that all the time?"  
"Arnold, Arnold, Arnold. I can't do that! I'm mean and nasty and insensitive; That's just who I am. That's what makes me special."  
"Whatever you say, Helga."  
"You got it: whatever I say. Now, get out of my way, footballhead!"  
  
"Hey, Arnold."  
"sigh Don't start, Helga. I'm really not in the mood right now."  
"Whoa, calm down footballhead. I come in peace."  
"Really?"  
"Hey, I might be mean and nasty and insensitive, but I'm not cruel. I saw what happened."  
"You saw that?"  
"Yeah, Phoebe had to meet Lila here. Something to do with their group project; poor Pheebs."  
By now they were walking, in no particular direction.  
"So, this time she really dumped you, huh?"  
"Yeah."  
"I mean she left no room for doubt, no hope or anything."  
"Yeah."  
"Well, it's not like there was anything there. I mean, she kept saying she only liked you, not like liked you."  
"I know. I just couldn't stop hoping she might change her mind."  
"Guess you'll have to now."  
"I guess. There was something strange, though. She said there was someone else out there for me, and that I had to be there for her when she came along. I just wonder if she had anyone in particular in mind."  
"Well, um, how could she? She wouldn't know. It just makes sense that if she's not the one someone else is."  
"Yeah, you're right."  
  
There had been more to that afternoon, about how he'd unloaded his troubles and frustrations and she had been there to listen and occasionally contribute to the conversation. But before Arnold could continue to relive that Sunday, when he had found Helga in a good humor too rare for his liking --- the same moments that, coincidentally, Helga was remembering at that very moment --- he was interrupted by his name spoken by his best friend.  
"Hey Arnold!"  
"Huh?"  
"Wake up, man. Are we going to play checkers or what?"  
Now it was his turn to shake his head, clearing the cobwebs. "Sorry, Gerald. I was just thinking."  
"I know; I've been here for a couple of minutes now trying to get your attention."  
"Sorry about that."  
"Daydreaming again? You haven't done that in a while, that I know of."  
"No, just remembering."  
"Mm."  
"I got another note, Gerald."  
"What? Well, let's see it."  
The paper was produced, and this time two pairs of eyes examined it.  
"Why's it stuck in the back?"  
"I don't know. Maybe someone wrapped their gum in it."  
"No smell. I guess if it is gum it's plain flavored. Hey, you don't think it could be Arnie?"  
"Arnie? No, he's still on the farm, a long way from here. And these notes have shown up without envelopes or anything."  
"Yeah. So let's see. 'Who found your hat?'"  
"Don't you remember that time I lost it? I remember Helga found it."  
"So you think whoever's sending these is trying to get you to think about Helga G. Pataki?"  
"I know, it's weird, but I can't come to any other conclusion."  
"Well, why would someone want to do that?"  
"I haven't been able to figure that out."  
"So do we start with the handwriting comparisons?"  
"Wouldn't do any good. Notice that this one is printed, and not very well. It's kinda like if one of us were to try to write with the hand we don't usually write with."  
"Mm-hmm. Well, from the angle I'd say we're dealing with a left- handed person."  
"So who's left-handed that we know?"  
"We all seem to be at least ambidextrous, or hadn't you noticed?"  
"Now that you mention it. What are the odds?"  
  
And so it went. After they had exhausted their investigation, again, they turned to their usual Friday night activity.  
  
Hours later, in a familiar blue brownstone, a familiar blonde was preparing for bed.  
"Hmm, let's see, which one tonight. Long johns, nightgown, pajamas... oh, who cares?"  
Since she apparently didn't care, neither do I. Suffice to say that ultimately she was preparing to sleep. Before she did so, she pondered her locket one more time.  
"Good night, sweet prince. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."  
And so to bed. The next day would be her birthday, not that she was looking forward to it. Not that she ever did.  
  
Meanwhile, in the boarding house, Gerald had gone home and Arnold was doing pretty much the same thing as Helga. Only he was pondering the latest note. On a whim, he determined to unstick the back of the paper. After some effort, he did so.  
When he did so, he saw more writing on the back.  
  
"That person is in pain, and needs your help but will not admit it."  
  
And with that, and some scratching of the head, he too addressed himself to sleep, a sleep pockmarked with mysteries running through his head.  
  
Well, there it is. The next chapter will cover the morrow, Helga's birthday, and things will continue to be confusing, which will hopefully clear up on repeated readings hint hint. I dare not say how long I will be in getting it up, as I have no idea what obstacles will arise to block my path. That said, again, please review, y'all. Cy'all. 


	14. Setting the Stage

And we come to another chapter, the one where the plan goes into action, the one in the park. The word 'setup' comes to mind. I'm having my doubts about the whole thing, but I'm bound to ride this out to the end regardless, which would be good news to y'all who like my work.  
  
As always, I would like to acknowledge the reviews I've been getting; I get the feeling that acknowledging every review is partially why I have been getting so many.  
Iris, thank you. As to your objection, I submit the beginning of the episode "Arnold Visits Arnie", where Helga says, "Looks like you're shortstop, Short Man." Btw, people, any resemblance between the beginning of that episode and the beginning of my previous chapter is strictly intentional.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, thank you. Arnold is putting two and two together, but only because Brainy is giving him two and two; and what with new math and quantum physics the answer could turn out to be anything. I'm reminded of that episode of I.M. Weasel where Weasel gave the answer as infinity. He's not thinking romance at this stage, as delightfully dense as always; or at least that's what I'm trying for here. You hit it on the head regarding Dino and Nancy. Remember the Nancy Spumoni snow boots? Of course you do. Nancy Sinatra (daughter of Frank), 1966, These Boots Are Made For Walking, well, you no doubt have seen Dale Abersold's comment on the Arnold's Christmas episode on Don Del Grande's site. Enough said. I am sorry to hear that about your life, and do not know what else to say. And I am taking the board in stride.  
Dramagirl 310, thank you.  
JESS, thanks. Dino will appear, eventually. I don't write anything by accident, except mistakes, and you might want to read that letter again. About that question you raised, I tried to e-mail it to you and got the 'mailer daemon' every time; oh well, you might want to get that seen to. But here is the answer: whippersnapper. It is a word an old person uses for a young person who in the old person's opinion is getting too big for said young person's britches, or in Harold's case is mouthing off. I know this because I have numerous old people among my family and friends and I am a devotee of stuff from bygone times. Nothing is before my time; I am an historian. I will admit that the first time I heard that trailer I thought Harold called her Megan Vitello; well, I guess that is as good a name as any.  
jc, you're not going to die, unless you're going to die. But this does not have anything to do with that. Regardless, here is the next chapter.  
Chien, thanks again.  
Starry Nights, thank you. Your point on age is well taken; you're only as old as you feel and I don't feel old yet. I am glad that you like that other thing and it is continuing as well; you can expect the next chapter tomorrow or the next day.  
Sleather, I value your opinion on my use of flashbacks; I might try montage next. Do not cry too much for Brainy; I am the cockeyed optimist here and I would not make him the star unless I had something good in mind for him, although I will admit that this is turning out to be a bit darker than I had originally intended. And maybe real guys are like that, some of us. I mean, I'm a guy, CB is a guy, Arnold is a guy. In the words of Michelle Wright, I keep hoping, telling myself, somewhere there's one good one left.  
Ryoko-onee, thanks and you're welcome. There will be Helga angst to spare in the coming chapters, but of course Phoebe won't forget. Even if she hadn't made it a point to wish her a happy birthday every year, they did know of the birthday in their planning sessions; that's part of the background for the whole thing, oh why did that 'April Fools' episode have to ruin everything, I'm going to have to rewrite so much, ARGH! I'm fine now (that's debatable).  
Obliviondark, what can I say, the chars interact on the show, I go for something like that here. Having read every HA! fic on ff.n, I can say that there are other fics with Brainy in them. In a couple he's a psychiatrist, in a few he advises Helga, in one he gets Helga, and then there are the excellent fics of Yardbird9, who is also a Brainy fan. But I dare say no one has used him this much before. Peace to you too.  
Paradoxical Reality, well, I do try to get into the minds of the chars. It helps that I have watched all of the episodes in my collection within the space of a few weeks, that definitely helps, yes.  
J.T., well, if you weren't annoying before... I'm kidding! Thanks to your computer being on the fritz, this story has now been pushed over the top. I've made the 100 club, folks; let the party begin! I am going with it, but I can't promise I won't worry. I'll try not to though, but if I hadn't worried, I wouldn't have been motivated to try harder with previous chapters and wouldn't have been as good.  
Ally, glad to hear from you here. I know, that's been bugging me too. I just know that when I see the rest of the eps, not to mention the movie, this story will be so wrong on so much; well, that's the risk one takes in writing a future fic before knowing the whole story about the present. Oh well. I could have waited to start this until after I saw the movie, but it was straining to get out as it was. My theory is that the confession will be a dream sequence er sum junk, and those who have seen the movie are no doubt snickering now; gimme a break, I haven't seen it. Nick US will just be getting around to showing Gerald's Game / Fishing Trip this Saturday. I just know that I'll be going 'oh no!' so much in the coming months; well, what can you do?  
Thanks everyone for the reviews; please continue reading & reviewing.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom.  
  
Saturday morning, almost 10 a m:  
  
RIIINNNNNGGGGGGG!!!  
RIIINNNNNGGGGGGG!!!  
RII-click  
"Hello? -- Yes, this is the Heyerdahl residence. -- You are? -- Oh, that project. -- Well, it's just that it had a terrible effect on Phoebe last week. -- Yes, I suppose she's recovered; at least I haven't seen any signs of discomfort since that day. Although she does seem preoccupied. -- Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that. -- Well, she and her father are having their workout right now, but let me check the time, yes, I think it's about over. -- Of course. Would you hold on a minute so I can tell her? -- Who shall I say is calling? -- Brainy? -- Well I won't ask then. Just hang on while I go tell her."  
Reba Heyerdahl lays the receiver on the table and walks to the fencing room, where the other two members of the family are finishing their usual Saturday morning fencing session.  
knock knock knock "Phoebe, a friend of yours from school is on the phone. He says his name is Brainy, and he needs to talk with you about that project."  
"Coming, Mother."  
  
The two Heyerdahl women walk side by side from the fencing room to the telephone.  
"Did he say anything about the project?"  
"Only that that was what he was calling about. I was impressed with his manners."  
"Oh?"  
"Yes, so polite and refined."  
"Interesting."  
"What?"  
"Nothing."  
By now they had reached the phone, the receiver to which Phoebe now lifted.  
"Now don't stay on the phone too long, Phoebe. You know we're expecting your grandparents to call from Kentucky, and you need to change out of your habit and bathe anyway."  
"Yes, mother."  
Now comparatively alone, Phoebe addresses her correspondent. "Hello, Brainy."  
"Hello, Phoebe."  
"I understand you're not your usual wheezing self on the phone."  
"Heavy breathing on the phone?"  
"Right. You know, it's a shame you don't play basketball; you've made enough points in the past eight days to beat Loyola-Marymount at their prime."  
"Loyola-Marymount?"  
"Oh. Yes. When Gerald's brother was a little kid, that school was in the habit of games in excess of 110 points."  
"And you found out about this from Gerald."  
"Um, yes."  
"Speaking of Gerald, you remember what we're to do today."  
"Yes."  
"Well, I'm calling to let you know we're meeting at Lila's."  
"Why there?"  
"That's where Olga will pick her up."  
"Olga will be going to Lila's house today?"  
"As per Lila's request, of Olga that is."  
"Why?"  
"Well, we could meet at the Pataki house, but that would be hard to do without Helga getting suspicious."  
"True."  
"Have you made your birthday call to her yet?"  
"No."  
"Well then, I'd better hang up so you can get to it. And Phoebe, I'm sorry I'm so hard for you to get along with."  
"Oh, it's not you Brainy, it's me. I'm just still finding it hard to believe that you're so smart."  
"Thanks. But when you think about it, how do you think I got the handle 'Brainy'?"  
"I hadn't thought about that."  
"sigh People are clueless, you know that?"  
"I thought I did, but I guess I've been clueless too."  
"Don't worry about it. Let's save our worrying for Helga."  
"Right. Brainy?"  
"Yes?"  
"Are you sure there's not another way we can do this?"  
"sigh I don't know. I've been going over it again and again; if there's any other way it's escaped both of us. You're a genius yourself and you haven't figured out an alternative, right?"  
"Right."  
"Her family situation has to be resolved, and that won't happen unless her family knows there's a problem, and they won't know unless she spills her guts, and she won't spill her guts unless she's pushed to the breaking point... sob"  
"Brainy? Are you all right?"  
"I, I have to go, Phoebe. Call your friend, okkay?"  
"Okkay."  
"See you at Lila's after lunch."  
"Right."  
"Bye."  
"Bye."  
  
Down went the phone in Brainy's room, in his family's house on Elk Island.  
"And good luck to all of us."  
He lay on his bed, hands over his face. "It's not right, what we have to do. But what choice do we have?"  
He rolled off of his bed to a standing position and walked to his desk. There he'd gathered all the tangible reminders he had left of his love for Helga, and before the day would end they would meet the incinerator. He closed his eyes and set his teeth to stem what he knew was coming. A deep breath, and his face cleared. Without a second look, he reached out a hand and swept that part of his past into the wastebasket.  
"Happy birthday, Helga. Someday."  
Lights out. Then, taking his wastebasket with him, he left his room. He would drop off the contents of the wastebasket, and then take the launch to the mainland, where a long lunch on the waterfront and a longer afternoon in the park awaited him.  
  
"Mother, may I make a quick call to Helga? It's her birthday and she'll be out most of the afternoon, so I'd like to touch base with her while I'm thinking about it."  
"All right, Phoebe. Five minutes."  
"Yes, mother."  
BEEP! #5 on the speed dial. The familiar tones sounded in her ear, and then...  
"Yes?"  
"Oh. Hello, Olga. This is Phoebe, Helga's friend."  
"Hello, Phoebe. Did you call to wish my baby sister a happy birthday?"  
"Well, yes."  
"Oh, that's so wonderful! My baby sister should be happy on her birthday. So I'm going to invite her to go bird watching with my Little Sis Lila and me. And as if that weren't enough, as if it were in answer to prayer, to further insure her happiness, her best friend calls to wish her a happy birthday; oh, isn't it all just so perfect?"  
"Um, yes, perfect. So, may I please speak with Helga?"  
"Oh, of course. (Oh, baby sister...)"  
"Hiya, Pheebs."  
"Happy birthday, Helga."  
"What, no Japanese greeting?"  
"Something tells me you're not in the mood to hear 'Happy Birthday' in Japanese."  
"pft, you got that right. I dunno why I even bother to acknowledge it. Birthdays are fine for some people like Football-head, but not for me."  
  
"Don't say that, Helga."  
"Why not? It's true. Who ever remembers? Just you and Ooool-ga. And one of those I could do without, and it's not you."  
"Thank you."  
"But really, it's just another day. But I guess it could be worse; if I were Jewish everyone would be making a big deal of it, throwing a bat mitzvah, getting me to say 'today I am a woman'. Can you imagine that? Me, a woman; I still haven't gotten anything out of being a girl!"  
"I see."  
"No, you don't. You try, Phoebe, I'll give you that, but it's just not possible for you to understand what I go through every day with this lame-o family. I'll be honest with you, Pheebs, there's times I'd like to switch Bob & Miriam Pataki for Kyo & Reba Heyerdahl. But I couldn't do that to you."  
"Why, Helga, I don't know what to say. I had no idea you felt like this."  
"You see, that's my point; you can't know. Sometimes I'd rather have Arnold's grandparents than my parents. And as much as Tall Hair Boy complains about his brother and sister, there's times I'd trade Mary Sunshine for either of them."  
"Helga..."  
"I'd better stop; this is bumming you out, isn't it?"  
"Well..."  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring you down."  
"No, it's all right. It's probably because you turn 13 today."  
"Yeah, that's probably it."  
("Baby sister?")  
"groan I guess Olll-ga's going to try to get me to tag along with her and Little Miss Perfect on their BSLS b.s."  
"Helga!"  
"Pardon my French."  
"That's not French, and it insults that language to call it so."  
"Take it easy, Pheebs. I'm just joking. Anyway, I can hear her coming. Wish me luck."  
"sigh Good luck, Helga."  
"Thanks; I'm going to need it. Bye, Pheebs."  
"Happy birthday."  
"Yeah yeah yeah."  
click  
  
click  
"Oh, there you are, baby sister."  
"Yeah, right where you left me a few minutes ago, will wonders never cease."  
"Oh Helga, are you sure you won't reconsider going bird-watching with Lila and me? It will be ever so much fun."  
'ever so much'? Criminey, they're even sounding alike now; this is too much!  
"Um, no thanks, Olga. I'll be just fine right here. I, um, need to alphabetize my WrestleMania trading cards anyway."  
"But I thought you already did that over two years ago, alphabetizing your--"  
"Oh, did I say alphabetize? Uh-huh, I meant put them in chronological order, yeah, that's it, I decided that I'd rather have them in chronological order."  
It wasn't one of her better lies, but as usual, Olga didn't notice. "Well, if you say so. But you know you can come with us any time; I especially want us to do something together on your birthday."  
"Oh, don't worry about me; I'll be having lots of fun."  
"All right then, baby sister. You have your fun & we'll do something later."  
"Right. Later, Olga."  
And before her sister could get in another sickeningly sweet word, Helga bolted up the stairs, locking herself in her room. Left in the lurch, Olga headed for the kitchen to prepare another monumental noon repast. Helga wouldn't leave without being subjected to as least some of it. It wouldn't have been so bad if Olga wasn't such a good cook; it made it so hard to not like what she made.  
  
Two hours & forty-five minutes later:  
  
The trio has gathered in the apartment rented by Lila's father. Of the three of them, she had the worst accommodations; but that didn't matter now. What mattered was that it would serve the purpose of a last-minute strategy session. Phoebe had arrived not five minutes ago, the result of having to eat a bit more of lunch than she would have liked. She at least had cleared her reason for hurrying with her parents. Brainy hadn't; he had come there directly from the waterfront. Right now, Phoebe was detailing her dismal phone conversation with her best friend.  
  
"It was horrible; I'd never heard her so depressed before! You're right, Brainy; we have to do this now, today!"  
"And we will. Now, before Olga gets here we'd better go over the plan one more time. Lila, would you start?"  
"All right. Any minute now, Olga will pick me up and we'll go bird- watching."  
"Phoebe?"  
"When that happens, you and I head for the Pataki house where we'll wait for Helga to come out. When she does, we follow at a discreet distance. That reminds me, Brainy, how do you manage to keep sneaking up behind her when no one else even notices her sneaking away?"  
"Other than never letting her out of my sight? Well, the credit --- or maybe I should say the blame --- should go to old friends of the family."  
"Oh?"  
"Yes. We might no longer be in the business, but that doesn't mean we've cut ourselves off from the people who knew Wheezin' Ed way back when. My parents figured it wouldn't hurt as long as I knew that what they did was wrong. With that sanction, I was able to pick their brains; there's not much they knew about being sneaky that I didn't pick up. Hey, Wheezin' Ed's great-grandson right there wanting to learn from them, they considered it a compliment. And I was an apt pupil. But I pledged to only use my powers for good."  
"Oh, Brainy. Now you're just being oh too silly."  
"I guess I am, but I needed a laugh." Which they took for a brief moment. "Go on, Phoebe."  
"Right. We follow her to the park, to the spot where she usually goes to be alone. And when she starts writing in her little pink book I go looking for Arnold and Gerald. I find them, come up with a reason to do something with Gerald, and send Arnold off in Helga's direction."  
"You'll have no problem figuring out the direction, no matter where in the park you find them?"  
"I have been playing in that park all my life, even if we hadn't gone over every inch of it this past week."  
"Right; my fault for asking. Now, while you're looking for Arnold and Gerald I contact Lila. Is the walkie-talkie in place, Lila?"  
"I'm oh so certain it is. We've taped it to the camera from BSLS."  
"I'm still not certain Olga won't notice."  
"She won't, not as long as Lila's holding the camera; and Lila, I don't need to go over the reasons it's important that you do."  
"Yes, I'm oh so familiar with the reasons. And I don't think Olga will notice either. She's ever so intelligent, but sometimes she can't see what's right in front of her."  
"True. Some brilliant people are absent-minded. Then there's us."  
Another flat joke, as Brainy soon found out.  
"Sorry. So, Lila, when you get my signal..."  
"I prevail upon Olga to move in Helga's direction."  
"What will you be doing all this time, Brainy?"  
"Making sure of Arnold. If I've done my job --- and I will --- Helga will be blowing up about her family to him about the time Olga gets there."  
  
"I'm concerned about something, Brainy. Olga has shown that she can be oh so temperamental; and when she encounters something negative she can fall to pieces and be ever so loud."  
"I've prepared for that too." Here he raised a mini-boom box he'd brought for the occasion. "Some of Seattle's finest, came out about the time we were born." He pressed a button, and the others had to cover their ears. Half a second later he pressed the STOP button. "My grunge angst mix CD; burned it myself. On here, you got your Nelvana, your Diamond Jelly, your Noisegarden, basically a who's who of the Pacific Northwest grunge scene. What counts is, it's loud. If Olga's about to blow, you contact me and I'll cover the sound with this."  
"That should certainly do the job, but won't Helga and Arnold be disturbed?"  
"It'll only last long enough to cover for Olga. If I know her she'll go running off for a minute, although you'll have to see that she runs away from Helga. Then I turn it off, and it's just someone playing their music too loud. Happens in the park every day."  
Not perfect, but it satisfied them. Phoebe then kept the conversation going.  
"So Helga tells Arnold about her family while Olga is elsewhere crying her eyes out. How will she hear what she needs to hear?"  
In response, Brainy raised an eyebrow and pointed at the camera.  
"Oh, right."  
"And Lila, no matter what, you must keep that camera going and keep it on Helga; do you understand?"  
"I'm oh so certain that I do."  
"Do you have enough tapes to last the day?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, here's a couple more just in case."  
  
"Hello, Little Sis. Oh, I see you're doing something with your friends."  
"YEEP!" was pretty much the consensus of the three's reactions at Olga's sudden appearance, even though they had been expecting her. 'Had been' being the operative phrase; they'd just forgotten in their planning. As the one addressed, Lila was the first to recover.  
"Oh, yes, I'm ever so certain that I am, Big Sis. We were just discussing a project we were doing for the summer."  
"Really? Is it anything I can help you with?"  
"No it isn't, Olga. We can't even tell you what it's about; those are the rules." Phoebe put in.  
"Oh. Well, if you can't tell, you can't tell." Then Olga noticed Brainy, a stranger to her unlike the others. "Hello. I don't believe we've been introduced."  
"Oh, I'm oh so sorry; where are my manners? Olga, I'd like you to meet Brainy. Brainy, this is Olga Pataki, Helga's older sister."  
"breathes Uh. Huh. Hi."  
"Brainy doesn't say much; he's very shy." Phoebe informed.  
"That's strange; I could have sworn he was talking just as I was coming up."  
That triggered discomfort, not the least on Brainy's part. Lila came to the rescue.  
"Well, he didn't know you were there or he wouldn't have said a word. We've known him for years, and only now is he opening up to us."  
"Oh. I see. Well, I thought we were going to go bird-watching, but if you're busy, Little Sis..."  
"Oh, no, Olga. I'm ever so certain we were talking about that very thing. They were just helping me check the equipment."  
"Oh. So, um, are you ready to go?"  
"I'm oh so certain that I am."  
  
After Lila said her good-byes to Phoebe and Brainy, she left with Olga, en route to fulfilling her part of the plan.  
The other two stood there on the sidewalk for half a minute, then turned to each other.  
"So."  
"Pataki house?"  
"You got it."  
And they were off.  
  
The couple blocks hike on either end, and the bus trip in between, were spent in silence. Only when they sighted the dubious haven of the person for whom the pair of them had such high regard, and chose their hiding place from which they could watch for her departure unseen, did Phoebe break the stillness.  
"How are you?"  
"It's a bit late to be asking that, isn't it? Shouldn't you have asked when we first saw each other back at Lila's?"  
"I mean, on the phone you sounded like you were about to cry."  
"I've dealt with it."  
"You really love Helga don't you?"  
"I said I did, but I'm trying to get over it."  
"I can't imagine what you're going through --- especially after talking with Helga --- but I can try to imagine. I mean, I've been Helga's best friend for ten years and I have some idea about her love for Arnold. If your love for her is as great, your dream of being with her up to the scope of her dream of being with Arnold, and now you're letting go of that dream..."  
"Just facing facts. She and Arnold were meant to be together; she and I weren't. And I guess it's not as big, my love for her. I mean, I haven't filled books with love poems about her. I don't have a shrine to her."  
"A shrine?"  
"Oops."  
"No, what are you talking about?"  
"Well..."  
"Come on. You said there are to be no secrets about this."  
Silence. "I did say that, didn't I?" More silence. "Well, I guess it was your turn to make a point."  
"You're dodging the question."  
"All right. Have you ever seen inside her closet?"  
"No, that's the one place I've never seen."  
"When she's alone, she worships the football-headed love god. She has a shrine to him in her closet, including a likeness of him."  
"You're kidding."  
"Not about this. She's had several busts of Arnold over the years, one made of wads of his used gum."  
"Whoa! I mean... did you say 'used gum'?"  
Brainy nodded.  
"You really have been watching her. That's dangerously close to invasion of privacy; trespassing..."  
"I know, I've had no shame where she's concerned, kind of. But can you say she's been any less pathetic?"  
"The used gum alone makes any argument I could make a non-starter."  
"Here she comes."  
And so the tail was on, the two of them following the girl with the pink and black books. As they walked, conversation continued.  
"It's not right." Brainy opined.  
"What's not?"  
"This is no way for her to spend her birthday. It should be celebrated like Arnold's was."  
"I'd be the first to agree, but she hasn't been helping people all her life like Arnold has."  
"She wants to. She wants to be good, but she's trapped. And you and I both know how, and why."  
"Yes." sigh "So we're here to do something about that, aren't we?"  
"Right."  
By now Helga had entered the park, Brainy and Phoebe about a block behind.  
"You are good at this; I would have lost her by now."  
"She does that deliberately, to shake any tails. But I keep finding her. I'm a bit out of practice, though."  
"It doesn't show."  
"It wouldn't to you."  
"I've been wondering about that book of hers."  
"Which one?"  
"The black one of course. I know what's in the pink ones; she's let me see a couple of things she's written; it's beautiful. But do you have any idea what the black book is?"  
"I have suspicions. She only brings it on her birthday, so I'm guessing it has some special significance for her. I want to get close to her while she's reading it, but in this case I get this overpowering vibe that I'm treading on sacred ground in a way."  
"We're here."  
"So we are. She's getting situated to write in her pink book."  
"Which is my cue to get Arnold."  
"And take care of Gerald."  
"Right."  
His face played with a rakish grin. "Go get 'em, Phoebe."  
"Stop it." She blushed.  
As Phoebe was turning to go, Brainy lifted his walkie-talkie and pushed the signal button.  
  
Not too far away, Lila noticed the signal coming through. She was the only one who noticed, as she was holding the walkie-talkie, taped to the bottom of the video camera.  
"Olga? I'm ever so certain there might be a better chance of us seeing some interesting birds over here."  
"Okkay, Lila. I'm right behind you."  
  
Several minutes later, Arnold found himself walking in dense undergrowth.  
What was Phoebe talking about? I didn't get any of it. All I got was that she needed Gerald for something and something was going on in this direction. Why am I here anyway? Maybe she was just trying to get rid of me; she and Gerald have been hanging out together a bit more lately. Those two are cute together. I wonder if they know that. If they don't, they're just dense; it's so obvious that there's no excuse-- Wait, what's that?  
All of these were among the thoughts he was thinking. He stopped thinking at the same time he stopped walking, and for the same reason. On the other side of a break in the bushes, not ten feet away, back turned to him, sitting on a bench on one side of a picnic table, was Helga G. Pataki.  
  
Memories of the note from the night before washed over him. So she's hurting and won't admit it, needs his help but won't say anything about it. Well, he'd just find out why. And here was a golden opportunity, alone, not knowing he was there. From his position he couldn't be sure what she was doing, but from her movements he guessed that she was writing. Then she stopped. An arm moved to her side, and he saw a book. A little pink book.  
As the significance of this registered, he noticed more movement. He listened, for what he didn't know.  
  
Cliffhanger, I know. But calm y'allselves; the next chapter is written already. It'll be different, though. I can't guarantee it won't offend, though such is not my intention. Of course, please review. I'm Nftnat. On e-mail, I'm nftnataol.com On IM, I'm Nftnat That's it; cy'all. 


	15. The Book of Helga

Here is the resolution to the cliffhanger. I hope y'all like it. As I said, it might offend; for sure it will be controversial. Why? Because by and large this chapter was taken directly from the Bible. All I ask is that y'all give it a chance. I haven't seen anything that would more eloquently communicate the despair Helga would feel at this point in her life. And to my mind it's not that much of a stretch that she would find it. She likes her Shakespeare, and the King James came out around the same time and place. Don't worry; I'm not trying to proselytize you (Would you like me to proselytize you? Is that what you're trying to say? Sorry, I just couldn't resist).  
  
Reviews Wow, such reviews! This story now has an average of 8 reviews per chapter; this is so cool!:  
Thank you, Anoriel. Here's More, More, More (Andrea True Connection 1976), times four, as per your request.  
jc, here's an update. Thank you.  
Ms. Prongs, thanks, here it is, and I've explained why I think it might offend. I will not split up Arnold & Helga.  
Here 'tis, Chien. Thanks.  
I'm sorry, Starry Nights; I don't mean to be mean. But thanks for the compliment.  
Thank you, Dramagirl310.  
Also you, J.T. You have been proven right.  
Ryoko-onee, here it is, thank you. And as for your previous review, you want Helga angst, you got Helga angst.  
Poison Ivory, every time a fellow author such as yourself adds his or her compliments it overwhelms me yet again. Thank you. I'm not surprised you almost cried at that scene; I cried while writing it.  
Roxynomekop, the same goes for you. I have admired your reviews for some time, and am honored that you've noticed this fic. I loved IMing with you.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, a pleasure as always hearing from you, knowing your standing in the HA! community. I've decided to ignore what I know about Helga's birthday, for now. Maybe later I'll change my mind, I dunno. Yes, I love packing my stuff with references to the series and with irony. Yep, Arnold noticed, but he's still dense. Brainy and the others are bringing him along.  
zali, thank you too. I've always thought Brainy could be very sympathetic if done right, which it seems I'm doing. Yeah, like I said I cried too.  
Gohansangil, I also enjoyed IMing with you, and I thank you for your compliments.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, & / or copyright by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom.  
  
And Helga opened the book, and she lifted up her voice, and said:  
  
"Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night it was said, There is a woman child conceived.  
  
Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it.  
  
Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it.  
  
As that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year; let it not come into the number of the months.  
  
Lo, let that night be solitary; let no joyful voice come therein.  
  
Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their mourning.  
  
Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day:  
  
Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes.  
  
Why died I not from the womb? Did I give up the ghost when I came out of the belly?  
  
Why did the knees prevent me? Or why the breasts that I should suck?  
  
For now should I have lain still and been quiet, I should have slept: then had I been at rest,  
  
With kings and counselors of the earth, which built desolate places for themselves;  
  
Or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver:  
  
Or as a hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants which never saw light.  
  
There the wicked cease troubling; and there the weary be at rest.  
  
The prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor.  
  
The small and great are there; and the servant free from his master.  
  
Wherefore is light given to her that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul;  
  
Which long for death, but it not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures;  
  
Which rejoice exceedingly, are glad, when they can find the grave?  
  
To a woman whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?  
  
For my sighing cometh before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the waters.  
  
For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me.  
  
I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came."  
  
And she laid her head down, and almost wept. But before she did, a voice was heard. A very familiar, longed-for voice.  
"Helga?"  
  
Yeah, I know, another cliffhanger. I'll have to get the next part up right away. And I will, unless I bog down again, y'all authors know how it is. Please review, y'all. I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com & on IM I'm Nftnat (hey, I got 2 IMs yesterday because of this). Thanks, y'all; stay tooned. 


	16. Twisted Sisters

Well, once again y'all spoil me with the reviews, so once again it's time to update. Herewith find chapter 16. Several of y'all have asked similar questions, so I'll try to get the most frequently asked one or two out of the way here. The previous chapter was not original; it was an adaptation of Job chapter 3. It's the beginning of the poetry section of the Bible. I'm glad that no one was offended; at least, no one has indicated such, yet. I reiterate that I was not trying to proselytize, although I could think of worse things than someone reading it and being inspired to read more of the Bible. I'm reminded of what the moderator of a mailing list to which I subscribe said in an interview with himself. (long story) Yes, I'm a BAC (Born Again Christian); I'm also a Baptist and a Fundamentalist. I'm also far from perfect, in my Christian walk or in general. I will be happy to discuss this matter, in private, with anyone who may be interested; but that's all I'm going to say about it here. What he said about himself, I pretty much say the same, including not being perfect; an example of the latter imo is my allowing even implications of profanity in this chapter, as y'all will see. I still have a limited tolerance for angst, but methinks I'm getting better at it. I'll venture to say that y'all will need a box of tissue to read this chapter. One more thing: y'all know I'm not a Lila hater; I'm also not an Olga hater, as y'all will see here. I believe there's the potential for any person to be portrayed sympathetically and I've taken the idea of so portraying two chars so generally hated by the HA! fan community as a challenge.  
  
Now to the reviews. I count 15 this time around, wow! I dunno what to say but thanks, thank y'all. And I continue to try to answer all of them, as y'all can see:  
Dramagirl, thank you. Obviously I didn't make up that poem; I just changed the occasional he to she, etc.  
Ms. Prongs, thank you. I agree. I'm glad you don't take offense. And I am keeping an eye on Nick, which pretty much goes without saying.  
J.T., thanks. I'm glad you love the Bible. I'm currently reading through Job in my annual read through the Bible and, well, I can see how you'd like it. Arnold will comfort Helga --- he starts to here --- but first there's the matter of bringing her to the point of accepting comfort, which I hope I accomplish here.  
jc, thanks. Here's that update already.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks for that. I agree about Psalm 139, especially the 'fearfully & wonderfully made' part, which pretty much describes Helga. Yeah, "Seeing With Open Eyes", I really should get back to actually reading some of the other fics on here, especially considering that so many authors have been kind enough to review my fics.  
kit-funk, thanks, here's more.  
Shmeilia Rockie, thank you. It could be considered art, I suppose. If Andy Warhol could basically trace soup cans and call it art... Ooh, On Bended Knee, Boys II Men, 1994, lol. Here's more.  
JESS, thanks. Again, without trying to proselytize, I hope that changes. Yes, it's a Bible she has there, as you will see. Special significance, you know. Yes, it was important that Arnold hear her at a vulnerable time and so be intrigued to help her. You'll see.  
Ivory, see above. Thanks for reviewing.  
Roxynomekop1288, thank you. And thanks for the IMs.  
zali, I continue to be amazed at the nice things people say about my writings. Printing copies for your friends to read? I am now officially flattered. I do try to make it believable, keep the chars in char, etc. Thanks to you and yours.  
Anoriel, thanks. Yes, it is impressive.  
F-Mari, thank you. Like I said, I try for realism.  
Bee, THANKS THANKS THANKS.  
Ryoko-Onee, thanks, I agree, & here it is.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. And I don't think there's a copyright on the Bible, but if there is I've made it obvious where I use references to That.  
  
"Helga?"  
"ULP!" One head shot up in record time, eyes as large as dinner plates.  
"Helga?"  
Helga said nothing; she just sat there, frozen. Then, slowly, her head swiveled in the direction of the voice, that calm, caring voice she had come to know and love and hate all at the same time. She stopped when her gaze fell on the one she knew was there, the source of the voice that kept calling to her. Arnold.  
"Helga?"  
"Oh. My." Followed by a piercing scream. One of those screams that could be heard blocks away.  
  
Such was indeed the case. Beyond the other end of the park, Phoebe and Gerald stopped momentarily.  
"Did you just hear something, Gerald?"  
"Nope."  
  
Back at the scream of the crime, Arnold picked himself up from where he'd been flattened by the force of the noise. He was almost in time to step in the path of Helga, who was running as fast as her lower body could carry her.  
However, she didn't get far. As she passed a small break in the bushes she tripped. If Arnold had thought to look at the right time and place, he might have seen a hand snake back into the break; but he didn't, so Brainy's presence remained undetected. Arnold had more pressing concerns, like the now prone form of--  
"Helga!" He was at her side in 3.5 seconds; of course, he didn't have that far to run. "Helga, are you all right?" He was met with a moan for his efforts. Undeterred, he turned her over and did whatever occurred to him that might help her to revive. Rubbing her face, her hands, light taps, he even did something he'd never done before: removed his sweater. The reason for this was that it was the nearest thing at hand that could furnish a makeshift pillow for Helga's head; Arnold thought she might need for her head to be elevated.  
When she came to, the first sight that met her eyes was a sea of orange squares. The second sight was just above it, a concerned football- shaped head with yellow tufts of hair above it. "Arnold?"  
"I'm here, Helga."  
He was there, but she wasn't, not quite. In computer terms, her mind was in safe mode. Running on automatic, she searched for something to talk about. She didn't have far to look; there was a topic directly above her. "Where's your sweater?"  
"It's under your head."  
"Oh." In an effort to confirm his statement, she turned her head to look underneath itself. "Ow. So it is." Her gaze returned to him. "Think I can count the number of times I've seen that on one hand." Although this is the first time I've seen it that you've known about, she thought but didn't say. "So it really is a shirt. What, do you shop at the Big & Tall store?"  
"So you still have your sense of humor. That's a good sign."  
"Yeah, good ol' fun-loving Helga." She looked him in the eyes; she could see she wasn't fooling him. "What are you doing here?"  
"To be honest, I don't know. I was goofing around with Gerald, and then Phoebe comes up and wants to borrow him. Then I start wandering, and the next thing I know I'm here."  
She closed her eyes. "How long?"  
"Since just before you started on Job chapter 3."  
"GROAN!"  
"It's all right; I won't tell anyone."  
"Is that what you said to Iggy?"  
You know that was uncalled for was the first thing that came to his mind. It would have come tumbling out his mouth in jig time, were it not for memories of the previous day: That person is in pain, and needs your help but will not admit it. Then, he knew what he had to do, or at least he thought he knew. "It won't work, Helga."  
"Wha? What won't work?"  
"Your insulting me, yelling at me, trying to drive me away."  
"You think that's what I'm trying to do?"  
"Yes. So," he changed the subject before she could respond to that, "Why are you out here reading the Bible?"  
"Are you going to turn me in to the ACLU?"  
"You know I would never do that, even if I thought they had a case, which I don't."  
"You never know; it is a public park." She said this while accepting his outstretched hand accompanying his offer to help her up. She noticed him putting his sweater back on. "You're going to wear that after I've been lying on it?"  
"It's still good."  
Then she got another look at it. "It's covered with grass stains."  
"It's had worse."  
"Such as?"  
"Paint, pudding,..."  
"All right, you've made your point."  
All this time, they'd been walking back to the table. Helga, thinking quickly with at least one part of her brain, cut in front of Arnold so he wouldn't see her gathering the books and slipping them under the arm opposite the side of her he was on. "Family Bible; I need to get it back in one piece." she explained.  
Arnold took it in stride as was his wont; he extended a hand in front of them, a mute invitation for a stroll. Helga accepted.  
  
Close by, Brainy followed them. He'd had practically his entire life to prepare for this, and managed to stay out of sight, always finding something behind which to hide, or keeping far enough behind them to not be seen. So far, so good, he thought. Now don't blow this, Arnold.  
  
Just on the other side of the blond couple, a Big Sis and her Little Sis were exploring the local avian life. Or at least Olga was. While she was waxing rhapsodic about the blue-beaked yellow-bellied grosbeak or whatever, Lila was looking in the opposite direction, camera at the ready. A break, and for a split second, there they were. It was Showtime.  
"Oh, Olga, I'm oh so certain I see your sister over there."  
"Helga? It is her! Hey, baby sis--" but Olga got no farther than that as Lila pulled her down. "Lila?"  
"I'm sorry, Olga, but I'm ever so certain she'd rather be alone. If you'll look closely, I think you will agree with me." Lila was not used to doing such things as she found herself doing, but under Brainy's tutelage over the previous week, she had learned quickly, and had even found herself enjoying the activity.  
The two of them walked along in silence, observing as Arnold again tried to open conversation.  
  
"So?"  
"So what?"  
"Why were you reading one of the most depressing chapters in the Bible?"  
"Possibly the most depressing chapter this side of Ecclesiastes."  
"What about on the other side of Ecclesiastes?"  
"That would be Lamentations."  
"Okkay. So?"  
"If you must know, it's a tradition I have. Every year I come out here on my birthday and--"  
"Wait, today's your birthday?"  
"No, I have this tradition I just do on my birthday and I thought today would be a good day to do it just for the heck of it."  
"Sorry."  
"And don't you DARE wish me a happy birthday!"  
"All right, whatever you say."  
"That's right, whatever I--" She trailed off. This was beginning to sound familiar to her, too familiar. Again, she went silent.  
And again, Arnold kept the conversation going. "So on your birthday you come out here and read one of the most depressing pieces of literature in existence."  
"That's right." A smile crossed her face. "You kind of remind me of the second verse of the next chapter; it's kind of funny, really."  
"I think we could use something funny about now. What does it say?"  
"'If we assay to commune with thee, wilt thou be grieved? But who can withhold himself from speaking?'"  
"Meaning?"  
"In your case it means you realize it probably won't do you any good to try to cheer me up, but you're going to try anyway."  
"Do you mind?"  
"Hey, you wouldn't be Arnold if you didn't try."  
"I'm glad you give your permission."  
"Whoa, don't get an attitude on me."  
"Just kidding, Helga."  
"Oh, whew ."  
"So..."  
"It's at this time of year that I want to be reassured that there has been someone who's been worse off than me, okkay? And I'm not too sure that he even was."  
"What are you talking about? I've heard the story of Job; he was covered head to toe in boils, even his best friends kept accusing him, he lost all his possessions, his family--"  
"At least he had a family to lose."  
  
From her spot a few yards away, Olga was aghast. All of this was news to her, to say the very least. "What? What does she mean, 'At least he had a family'?"  
"I'm ever so certain we're about to find out, Olga."  
  
"What? Helga, you have a family!"  
"If that's what you want to call it. A lame mom, a blowhard dad, and a perfect sister. Sometimes I wish I were an only child and an orphan."  
"I couldn't recommend it." Arnold intoned darkly, his eyelids at half- mast.  
That brought Helga up short; they both stopped. "Oh, Arnold, I'm sorry--"  
"It's all right; I know you didn't mean anything toward me. You've insulted me about a lot of things, but never about my family situation." To reassure her, he took her hand.  
  
"I don't understand. What does she mean? She doesn't want a family? And did you hear what she called Mummy and Daddy?"  
"Yes, Olga, I'm all too certain I did."  
"Lila, I'm so sorry that you had to hear this."  
"I'm oh so certain I wish this didn't have to happen either, Olga. I suppose this has been building inside of Helga for some time."  
  
It was at this point that the situation crystallized in Helga's mind. She'd been running on auto-pilot all this time, but now it finally registered. Arnold. He was here. He'd heard her, found out one of her secrets. He'd cared for her, used his omnipresent sweater as a pillow for her. He was talking with her, listening to her, and now, he was holding her hand?  
It was too much for her. She could feel herself going goofy, hear the sigh, see the expression on her face in her mind's eye. Subconsciously, she was loving this; at the same time, that other part --- the part that had to be in control of her emotions at all times --- was sending a signal that was not to be denied. She had to end this, NOW! Automatically, her other hand started to rise.  
  
In the bushes, Brainy took in what was happening with a growing sense of dread. He knew the signs, he'd seen it thousands of times. She was sighing, with a goofy expression on her face. Next she would slap herself in the face as soon as Arnold was distracted, and then turn mean again. And another opportunity, this one the best that would ever come along, would be lost. "Oh no you don't, Helga. Not this time." His hand dove into his pants and produced a straw and a piece of paper.  
  
"Say, is that Pigeon Man over there?"  
"Where?"  
For a split second, Arnold looked away. That, to Helga's subconscious, was the signal. Her hand was now above her waist.  
  
The paper in his mouth, rapidly reaching a state of sufficient saturation. The straw in his hand, held to his mouth, at the ready.  
  
Her hand now at face level, it swung a bit to the side, the better to achieve sufficient force to slap her into her senses.  
  
PFWOO!  
  
Across Helga, on toward Arnold. Direct hit on his chest. Now he'd been brought to his senses, finely honed over the years to give an automatic reaction. His head swung around, the words "Cut it out!" on his lips. Where they died at the sight before him. Helga, about to slap herself.  
  
Her hand went down...  
  
His hand came up...  
  
And met her wrist, bringing her lower arm to a stop not two inches from her face.  
Helga opened her eyes in shock. There had been no impact with her face; moreover, there was Arnold still, literally holding hands with her. He had stopped her!  
  
"Why did Arnold grab her wrist?"  
"You know Arnold?"  
"Yes, I've tutored him a time or two. Why did he grab her wrist like that?"  
"I'm oh-so-sure she was about to slap herself, and he stopped that."  
"But why-ever would she do that?"  
"sigh I have an unfunny feeling we're about to find out."  
  
"Helga, were you about to slap yourself in the face?"  
"Let go, Arnold."  
"Why were you about to slap yourself in the face?"  
"None of your business! Now let go!"  
"Why were you about to slap yourself in the face, Helga?"  
"Let go of me, Arnold. You're hurting me!"  
"I am not and you know it; I am stopping you from hurting yourself. Now why were you about to slap yourself in the face?"  
  
"I must go to her-- wha?"  
Olga was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder; apparently, even though it had been years since Pleasantville, Lila had kept herself in her previous hard-working farm girl condition, and then some. Olga now looked into Lila's face, which shook from side to side.  
"Why aren't you letting me to go my sister, Lila?"  
"Because something is happening here which we should not interrupt."  
"But you heard her; he's hurting her!"  
"Olga, I know Arnold. He's the nicest, kindest, gentlest person I've ever known and could never bring himself to hurt anyone. She's just trying to get away from him."  
"Why?"  
"Well, from what I've been able to hear, she's hiding something and doesn't want him to find it out."  
"SIGH! Oh, Helga, SOB ... Whatever are we to do, Lila?"  
"I don't know of anything we can do but watch and listen."  
............... "Lila?"  
"Yes, Olga?"  
"Why have you been recording this on that camera?"  
  
"Why were you about to slap yourself in the face, Helga?"  
Helga panicked; with an effort, she wrenched herself from Arnold's grip and again ran as fast as her lower body could carry her.  
And again she tripped on something that a second later wasn't there.  
  
"Helga!"  
"Olga, he'll take care of her."  
  
Again, Arnold was at her side. "Helga!"  
"Lemme alone, football-head!"  
"I can't do that, Helga."  
"Yes you can."  
"Helga, please, let me help you."  
"Stay out of this, it's none of your business."  
But he didn't stay out of it. As he helped her up, again, he continued the friendly persuasion. "Helga, I know you want me to think you're a mean bully, but I know that's not all that you are. I know that you can be nice sometimes. You proved it when you found my hat, you proved it in those things you've done for Phoebe, you proved it at the beach, and you proved it on Sunday. You helped me then; please, let me help you now."  
"Ooohhhh, sigh Just take it out of what I owe you. Now would you just go away and leave me alone?"  
"You don't need to be alone right now."  
"Oh, so now you know what I need?"  
"You need a friend. I would like to be that friend. Would you let me?"  
She looked at him, a good, long look. His kind, caring, open, honest face. Those green eyes, such a perfect mix of emerald and jade. That expression of concern, of friendship, of eternal hope. In every word he didn't say, he was telling her that even though he might be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, there was room there for her problems too, and he wanted to add them to his burden. What? Now he was hugging her! It was too much. In the words of that '70's song, it was like he'd found her letters and read each one out loud, killing her softly with his song. And it was working; she could feel her inner resolve start to crumble. It couldn't, he couldn't know, not yet! Not like this! She had to resist.  
She pushed away from him. "No! Leave me alone! Why would I want to be friends with a geek bait of an orphan boy like you?"  
Fire flashed in those emerald-jade eyes. For a little, almost nothing, he would have been willing to sell his introduction to Helga on the open market then and there. But those words kept coming back to him:  
That person is in pain, and needs your help but will not admit it. Those words would not leave him alone.  
"Is that the best you can do?"  
She struggled. "Arnold, leave it alone."  
"I can't do that."  
"You don't want to go there."  
"I have no choice. My friend is hurting and won't let me help her."  
He called me his friend! resounded joyously through her mind, and was immediately swallowed up. "Arnold, I'm serious. You're playing with fire."  
"So I'll wear asbestos."  
"You'll get cancer."  
"So I'll get cancer, mesothelioma, whatever; I'll take that chance. Please, Helga. Please, let me help you." And with that he again started to embrace her in friendship and comfort.  
She was on the brink, but the bully in her was not finished yet. It still had one card to play, and was determined to put everything it had on the table. Her hands balled into fists. This was the last thing she had ever wanted to do, but it was the last thing preventing her from spilling her guts. She set her teeth to allay the trembling that was still manifest in her arms, and then, Ol' Betsy and the Five Avengers went into play on Arnold's back.  
"D it Arnold, I said to GO AWAY & LEAVE ME ALONE!!! Take your d good intentions and your wanting to f help and get OUTTA HERE!! Where does a d orphan like you get off, what gives you the right to try to interfere in my personal life and try to change every--thing? You think you can just come in and turn my whole world upside-down? To h with you, d it!" And then she got rude.  
Arnold said nothing; he just maintained his hug and absorbed the blows physical and verbal, saying nothing, the occasional tear streaking his face. If someone had told him even five minutes previously that he would find himself in this situation, he would have shrugged it off with a "whatever you say", but would not have believed. But every step along the way, he had become progressively ensnared in Helga's emotions. The more she tried to cover it up or shoo him off, the more convinced he became that whatever was inside her was a toxic substance, poisoning her inner being; something which, for her sake, had to come out.  
By now the fists had slowed but not stopped, the words were dissolving, right about -- "I HATE MY LIFE!!!" -- now. That was the terrible climax of Helga's negative passion; terrible, but necessary. And then, the tears. It was the closest Helga had ever allowed herself to come to falling apart. Being a Pataki --- although not Olga --- she had always striven to remain in control of her emotions at all times. But not now. Now her control was in a nosedive, her emotional state in a tailspin. Finally, the fists stilled; instead of hitting Arnold's back, they were clinging to it, grabbing hold anew with each heave, each wheeze into and out of her lungs. Helga was literally hanging on to him for dear life.  
The assault on his back halted, Arnold held Helga, letting her cry. To soothe her, he ran his hands up and down her back in consolation. "There, there, just let it out, Helga; let it all out."  
The lachrymal paroxysm continued, equaling any emotional display Olga had ever put on. When she found her voice, it was somewhat the worse for wear. "Dit Arnold, why do you have to be so, so, so Arnold?"  
Silence.  
"With your helpfulness and your goody-goody do-goody dreaming and your optimism. Don't you know the world stinks?"  
A sigh escaped him before he started to respond. "Yes, Helga. I know. But I can't let that affect how I live my life. I need to make things better, you know that. You say the world stinks? So I'll get some air freshener."  
Helga had to laugh at that, despite everything. "And clean it up one piece at a time?"  
"Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, Helga."  
Now it was her turn for silence.  
"I can feel the anger in you, Helga, the hurt. If you don't let anyone help you you'll just make it harder on yourself, and you'll have to live with the unhappiness."  
That brought a faint & fleeting smile to Helga's face. "That's almost exactly what Inga said the last time I saw her."  
He nodded, then waited. "You've come this far; I'd say you've already committed yourself."  
That rueful grin again. "I'd say I should commit myself, and my whole family while I'm at it."  
Arnold said nothing; he only gave her a reassuring smile and patiently waited.  
That was it; Arnold had finally cleared the dam and would not be denied. Although this had been one of those moments for which she'd been waiting, it had also been one of those moments she'd been dreading. "You might want to take a seat, football-head; it's a long story." He did so, joined by her on the ground.  
  
And so it started. Helga opened to Arnold a story of sorrow. It was a story of an ogre, a brute who seemed to live by the motto 'the protruding emotion will be hammered down'. It was a story of a woman who could care but chose not to, choosing to drown herself mentally, keeping herself in a 'smoothie'-induced stupor. The whole thing caused Arnold to grieve for her internally. He might not have considered Helga's parents to be the best, but he had imagined only a fraction of what she now told him.  
  
Over in the bushes, Brainy took in the story --- most of which he already knew --- with mixed emotions. While he knew that Helga needed to go through this, the experience was causing even him to cry. "It's for her own good, for her health, for her safety." he kept telling himself. "It's like sweating out a fever, cutting out an infection, it has to be done for her to survive." He knew that he was saying the truth, that this was the only way she could possibly start to heal; but that didn't make it any easier for him to watch.  
  
On the other side, the scene was even more waterlogged; the tears were flowing thick and fast. All the time that her sister had struggled with Arnold, had fought him, had fallen apart; Olga had been hovering on the edge herself. And now, hearing the family dirty laundry that she had always known but repressed, she was starting to lose it. Lila had a finger poised over the signal button on the walkie-talkie which would cue Brainy to play the grunge in distraction, but it didn't seem necessary as Helga was preoccupied with her own problems.  
Olga had changed; her Mary Sunshine persona had dissolved into the tears that were around her feet. Every word she heard her sister say about 'Mummy & Daddy' stung worse than any slap in the face ever could. She had known these things, most of them. But she had chosen to ignore the faults in her parents and focus on their good qualities which they exhibited once in a blue moon, especially to her. This was nothing new for Olga; she had, after all, completely caved in to the pressure to succeed and become everything her father had ever wanted her to be.  
  
I have to perform all the time like some kind of wind-up doll, she remembered her own words to her sister. But the worst, for her, was yet to come.  
  
"And then there's Ooolll-ga!"  
"What's wrong with your sister?"  
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all! She's perfect, even more perfect than Lila. You have no idea what it is to constantly be in the shadow of someone who's a combination of Martha Stewart, Marilyn Vos Savant, Yo Yo Ma and Miss America. And let's not forget she's the perfect daughter. I know I'll never forget, and I have tried. I'm constantly being compared to her and found wanting; she's always been held up as an example. Every mistake I make it's 'this would never have happened to Olga'. You've been in our house; you must have seen the trophy room. It's only wall to wall Olga. They even keep calling me 'Olga'. There's just two daughters; you'd think they could keep us straight, but nooooo, not Big Bob Pataki! He's always calling me 'Olga', either that or 'the girl'...  
  
There was more, much more, but Olga heard no more; at that point she'd had enough. She couldn't listen to these truths anymore. Blind from her tears, she ran. And ran. And ran. She didn't know where she was running, and she didn't care. Perhaps she was trying to run away from the truth; she wouldn't have known even had she cared to think about it. And despite her best efforts, the truth continued to intrude on the house of cards in her mind.  
  
It was there all the time, the signs were all there, she was trying to tell me...  
  
"...so you can get out of bed and prance around the house like Mary Sunshine again. You can go back to being the Golden Child and go ahead and tell Mom & Dad what I did so they'll reward you and punish me like they always do."  
  
"You think you're getting to know me, but you don't know the first thing about me. You think spending a lot of time together is making us closer, but it's not. The truth is, Olga, I can't stand you."  
  
"But Helga, I still don't understand. If I get on that plane and go to Alaska to teach desperate and underprivileged Inuit children, how will that ever make us closer to each other?"  
"Olga, I know it might not make much sense to you now, but trust me; the farther away you are from me, the closer we'll be."  
  
"Hey, what are sisters for?"  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Hey what are sisters for?"  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Hey, what are sisters for?"  
"I don't know! ...-on't know! ...-on't know! ...-on't know! ...-on't know!"  
  
Those unhappy memories persisted, haunting her. Letting her know, again and again, that she had failed. She had failed her sister. She was the older sister; she was supposed to have looked out for her.  
"Oh, Helga, what have we done? GREAT GOD IN HEAVEN, WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!?"  
And she collapsed in the grass, downed in a torrent of tears.  
  
To be continued, obviously. Although this doesn't technically count as a cliffhanger, hopefully. If y'all have wiped the tears away now (I'm conceited, aren't I?), y'all can expect the next chapter when y'all see it. Anyone who wants to contact me, I'm Nftnat, on IM I'm Nftnat, & on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com . Cy'all. 


	17. Picking Up the Pieces

Once more I am overwhelmed at the response I've gotten. So once more I submit my latest with not a little trepidation; to be short, I keep worrying my next won't be as good as my last. With some chapters I know exactly where I'm going. Then there's the kind of chapter you see before you here. I appreciate kindness, but if I need to fix something I'd appreciate being apprised of that too. Thank y'all.  
  
Review time:  
Ryoko-onee, thank you. It made me cringe too, the language and all. I'm working on Brainy's future here, obviously. And don't give up on Olga just yet. I managed to salvage Lila; I will try to do the same for Olga.  
Ms. Prongs, thank you. Yes, it was intense. Now that you mention it that passage was humorous; I don't want to completely leave out the funny stuff, without which the series would be like a battery with just the negative terminal hooked up, or just the positive for that matter. I'd seen a law firm put out these announcements about mesothelioma for some time, but I hadn't really noticed the connection with asbestos until literally the day I posted the last chapter; it was one of the last things I added. Oh, no offense to anyone negatively affected by asbestos. Hope you get unstressed.  
zali, thank you. Yes, it was pressurized; I'm glad you like those sections. Like I said, don't give up on Olga. The rest of Brainy's plan can't happen without her.  
jc, thank you. I'm touched that you're touched. Of course, I'm touched anyway, but that's neither here nor there. I guess I can write angst.  
Starry Nights, thanks, it's always good to hear from you. I really didn't think it was as much a cliffhanger as the previous two chapters were, but I guess that's a matter of opinion. You'll get part of the answer here but as to 'ever'? Well, eventually.  
Anoriel, thank you. Yes, it was sad.  
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks, I also look forward to your reviews. That I made you cry, wow, it makes me a bit sad that I struck such a chord, or that such a chord's there to be struck. Fair warning; there might be more of the same here.  
J.T., thanks, and I respect you too.  
Roxynomekop, thanks. You have hit it right on the head. Obviously, this fic is about Brainy, but I don't want to ignore the good that Arnold continues to do. He is the 'do-goody dreamer' and I don't want to lose sight of that.  
Dramagirl 310, thank you.  
JESS, thank you. No, I'd never even heard of Kiwibox until you mentioned it. I'd also never seen Rent, which also uses that quote. It's an old quote, one known far and wide. The parents will find out, eventually. You'll see.  
Chien, thank you as well.  
Ms. Pataki, thank you.  
oneblackvoice, thank you. It means a lot to me when I get such a review as yours; it's one of the more mature and discerning reviews I've gotten, which is not intending offense to all of you other reviewers. It's the kind of review I'd make myself, which I mean in a good way. Greatness? Well, I wouldn't say that, but I'm glad you did. As to your complaint, you're right; these are mature issues. That said, look at with whom we are dealing. There's Brainy, who I make a genius. There's Phoebe, who we already know is a genius. There's Lila, who's been known to get the answer in ahead of Phoebe. There's Arnold, who's been the grownup in the house for who knows how many years. And then there's Helga. How many nine-year-olds have we known to use terms like 'orzo-shaped Prometheus'? I hadn't even heard the term 'orzo' until I started watching HA! Rhozine, yes; lozenge, yes; orzo, no. But that aside, your point is well taken. I do try to keep this as close to the series as I can, which is why I await new episodes and the movie with some degree of trepidation; oh well.  
And Yardbird9, thanks for your e-mail. My response? The check is in the e-mail. Or rather, check your e-mail. My response is there.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Cyrano de Bergerac was written by Edmond Rostand. Scarlett O'Hara was a character in Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. The Shakespearean references, quotations and knock-offs are from The Riverside Shakespeare, copyright 1974 by Houghton-Mifflin.  
  
Helga was paying attention to what she was saying to the extent that she didn't notice her sister backing away from the margin of the scene of the crying. The same could be said for Arnold. But Brainy did notice, and when Olga left he saw an opportunity to check on Lila. He slipped behind the blond couple, and in a matter of seconds was behind the redhead.  
"It goes without saying that Olga didn't take what Helga said too well." he whispered.  
Lila whispered back, "That's an understatement."  
Brainy pondered. "Is it possible she didn't know all of this? Or perhaps she was repressing it."  
"That's something I'll need to ask her when she comes back. If she comes back."  
"She might not?"  
"I don't know. I have an unfunny feeling I'll have to go looking for her, but just in case..."  
"I'd better be getting back to where I was, gotcha." Before he left, he noticed. "You've been crying too."  
"So have you. Who wouldn't be who's witnessed this?"  
"True."  
"We are doing the right thing here."  
"Yes. Like I told Phoebe, they have to know. And this is the only way they will know. They wouldn't listen otherwise. Can you imagine if her father had been here instead of her sister?"  
Lila shuddered. "He would have gone charging in like a bull elephant."  
"And done as much damage. More."  
"Mm." pause "Brainy?"  
"Mm?"  
"Do you really think there's hope for them, even for him?"  
Brainy's turn to pause. "Yes." he whispered, and not because he had to either. "What's that old saying, while there's life there's hope? There has to be," he hissed, "for her."  
While keeping her thumb on the trigger of the camera, Lila looked back at her enigmatic colleague. "You're a good person, Brainy."  
Brainy broke his gaze from the scene in front of them, momentarily locking eyes with Lila. "So are you. Doing this for someone who hates you for no good reason."  
"What about you, practically giving the woman you love to another?"  
"As if she ever were mine to give."  
"Still, Cyrano couldn't have done it better."  
"He would have used words." His gaze returned to the couple. "I'm kind of envious, really. And I don't mean of Cyrano."  
"Yes, you've explained that."  
"I don't mean I'm jealous of Arnold because Helga's in love with him. It's the way he's so easy for everyone to be friends with. I wish I had the way with people that he has. He's not flashy or anything, in a way he's as low key as I am, but he has that certain something."  
"That's about what I thought of his cousin."  
"You were in love with Arnie; I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about friendship, ... I wish I could just go up to a crowd and say 'Hi. What's going on?' But I can't get past the wheezing and the shyness. Arnold? He never meets a stranger, and I don't mean that in a glad-handing way. He'll go up to anyone, celebrities even, and be comfortable like it's no big thing. Stinky was right; he does lead a charmed life."  
"That reminds me, aren't we taking a chance on being found out by the others? Even if few people ever come to this particular place, it is a public park."  
"It's been taken care of. Yesterday at the game we got together and worked out our schedules so that we could spend more time doing group things. It also has the benefit of letting everyone know what everyone else is doing at a given time."  
"Strange, I don't remember anyone telling me about this."  
"That is strange. Maybe everyone assumed you would find out from someone else or had already found out. But I told Curly, who told Eugene, who told Sheena and Harold, who told Stinky and Sid, who told Rhonda, Nadine, and Lorenzo. I also told Phoebe, who told Helga and Gerald, who told Arnold."  
"How could I have missed all of that?"  
"Now that I think of it, a lot of it happened while you were up at bat. I guess that some things happen on the bench that the starting lineup isn't in on."  
"I suppose..."  
  
At that moment the volume of sobbing and other noises associated with extreme sadness, which had been going up and down, took another upswing. Brainy noticed, and his attention again centered on Helga. Lila noticed this; she also noticed the pain in his expression.  
"You're still in love with her." It was a statement, not a question.  
Brainy was caught off guard, but he made a quick recovery. "Like I told Phoebe, I've dealt with it."  
"I don't believe that; you can't just turn it on and off like a switch."  
"I can try. Did I mention I'm seeing a psychiatrist?"  
"Dr. Bliss, yes, you did. I'm serious, Brainy. Have you given any thought to what happens after you get Helga together with Arnold, what you'll do then?"  
An uncomfortable period of comparative silence ensued, then, "I don't know. I'd chosen not to think about it."  
"Going to think about it tomorrow, like Scarlett O'Hara?"  
"Something like that."  
"Is there someone you might be interested in, someone to take your mind off of Helga?"  
Out of self-defense, and influenced somewhat by Helga, Brainy snorted. "Have you been watching too much Lawson's Lake?"  
"You're avoiding the question."  
"Of course I am; I learned from the best."  
Lila waited, her face conveying her skepticism and her anticipation.  
Brainy's face reddened. "Well, there is someone I've noticed... we don't have time for this. I need to get back to my post."  
"Brainy..."  
But he was already sneaking back to the other side of the blond couple.  
  
For whom things had slowed to a dull roar. They were in each other's arms, hugging, Arnold in friendship and concern, Helga for dear life and semi-subconsciously in fulfillment of a lifelong dream. The walls she'd built? The fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate, in the words of the song? Once he'd seen her despair, her vulnerability, what was the point? Maybe it was that, maybe it was the stigma of turning 13, maybe it was just the hormones of adolescence. For whatever reason, he now knew as much about her family as she did, thanks to her. A depressed sigh escaped her lips, drawing his attention.  
"Well, it's official. My life is now over."  
"You're sounding like Rhonda."  
"Yeah, guess I am."  
"So, why is your life over?"  
"Because now you know so many of my secrets."  
"I imagine you still have some."  
Her mind was again drawn to the secrets she still had, one in particular. "You're right; I do."  
"Well, I won't pry, Helga. Just tell me what you're comfortable with telling, or not."  
"I wasn't comfortable telling you what I already did. You took advantage of me, Football-head." She gave the matter the proverbial great deal of thought, then... "I never cried so much in my life. Actually, I never cried much at all."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I'm a Pataki."  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
"Besides, I've never seen you cry either."  
Arnold turned his face away. "I do cry, in private, where no one can see me. Sometimes not having parents gets to me, and I..."  
"I'm sorry, Arnold, I shouldn't have..."  
Arnold shrugged it off, literally and otherwise. "You couldn't have known."  
"Thanks."  
"It seems we have similarities to each other. I don't know if my parents are alive..."  
"And to my parents I might as well not be alive."  
"Exactly."  
They then fell into another silence; this time, for a change, Helga spoke first. She still had a lot on her mind.  
"You asked what my being a Pataki has to do with not crying. It's always been understood that Patakis don't cry."  
"WHAT?"  
"It's true. It's always been pounded in that Patakis are tough, and since that other Pataki got elected governor of New York in '94--"  
"That's right; I thought I'd heard that name before. Any relation?"  
"Distantly. As soon as he heard of a successful Pataki, Bob had a genealogical search done. But aren't we all related down the line somewhere? 'They will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet'."  
"Huh?"  
"It's from Henry IV Part II."  
"I'm impressed."  
"Hey, that school play turned me on to Shakespeare. I've been reading in my spare time, I found that line and it seemed appropriate."  
"Wow."  
"What about you?" She now looked Arnold in the face, a small smirk on hers. "Have you been getting any use out of your birthday present?"  
"Yeah, I figured I'd go through it in order, so so far I'm still on the comedies. Funny you should ask me that, though, I've been thinking--"  
"Uh-oh."  
"Funny again. I seem to remember some of your lines from that play, something about names."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. It was the balcony scene, you didn't know I was there listening yet, so you were basically talking to yourself. Do you remember? About names, Montagues in particular?"  
"I think so."  
"Try to go over it now, but substitute 'Pataki' for 'Montague'."  
"Okkay." It took Helga a while to gather her thoughts, especially of lines from that far back. Arnold could see that she was having trouble, so he gathered his thoughts and threw out a line to help her.  
  
"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"  
  
"Thanks, Arnold. I think I have it now."  
  
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;  
Thou art thyself, though not a, a, a Pataki.  
What's Pataki? It is nor hand nor foot,  
Nor arm nor face, [nor any other part]  
Belonging to a man."  
  
"You see? So you're a Pataki, so what? While one's name might be something to be proud of, it's not something that should run your life."  
"I know, but..."  
"You asked if I'd been getting use out of that book; wanna hear a sample?"  
"Um, sure."  
"Like I said, so far I've just been reading the comedies, and this one I don't find funny at all."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah, but there's a passage I'm remembering now, it seems appropriate too. Let's see... oh yeah, now I remember. Only I'll substitute your name too."  
Helga nodded. "Go on."  
"You are a Pataki. Hath not a Pataki eyes? Hath not a Pataki hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a, a, as anyone of any other name is? If I prick you, do you not bleed? If I tickle you, do you not laugh? If I poison you, do you not die? And if I wrong you, shall you not revenge?"  
Helga sat there agape as Arnold finished his lines. "Arnold, I'm amazed!"  
"So am I, truth be told. I didn't even know it made that big an impression on me. Oh, it's from--"  
"Merchant of Venice, I know. You don't find it funny."  
"Maybe parts of it."  
"Have you gotten to the part where Portia and Nerissa kick butt in court yet?"  
"Yeah."  
"An Elizabethan version of girl power!"  
"Yeah. It's a bit anti-Semitic for my taste, though."  
"True."  
Another extended silence; again, Helga broke it.  
"So what now?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Now that you know, well, what you know."  
This time Arnold was the one who sighed. "I wish I could tell you, Helga, I really do. With my talent for helping people, pulling off miracles even--"  
"So you've noticed." Helga teased.  
Arnold smiled and blushed. "Yeah. But I don't even know where to start with this one." he continued, the grin fading into sadness. "All I can come up with so far you probably wouldn't want any part of."  
"What?"  
"Oh, calling the authorities."  
"WHAT?"  
"Yeah, child neglect, mental cruelty--"  
"Arnold, don't do that, please!"  
"I won't. But you see what I mean? If that's all I can come up with..." he trailed off into another sigh. Helga acknowledged the situation, matching Arnold's sigh with one of her own.  
"But I will keep trying to think of something."  
"I know you will."  
"Helga, is that really how things are, about Patakis not crying?"  
"Yeah, football-head, it's really how things are. As far back as I can remember it's been, Patakis are tough, Patakis bounce back, Patakis are winners, Patakis don't talk about their feelings, Patakis don't cry--"  
"Except for Olga."  
"You said it; she is the exception."  
"Where does all this come from, about what's expected of Patakis?"  
"Are you kidding? Big Bob of course."  
"And you follow what he says, even when you're not around him."  
"Well, yes."  
"That would explain why you think you need to be a mean bully." A welter of thoughts and feelings went through Helga's mind while Arnold sifted through his own thoughts. Finally... "Interesting."  
"What?"  
"Even after all that he's done, with what you feel about him and everything, you still follow his lead."  
"Huh?"  
"Don't you see, Helga? Despite everything, you still want his approval and are still trying to get it."  
That observation cut Helga to the quick; she felt another storm coming on. Arnold was ready; he caught her and held her while she had another cry. Finally...  
"Now I think about it, that's one of the reasons I'm so jealous of Lila."  
"I didn't know you were jealous of Lila."  
You have no idea she thought. What she said, though, was "Oh yeah, you don't know what we did to her her first weeks here. Lemme tell you..."  
  
Helga then launched into her memories of the beginning of P.S.118's acquaintance with Miss Perfect of Pleasantville. The one as smart as Phoebe, as stylish as Rhonda, and with all the guys at her feet. Off to the side, the subject of Helga's current monologue was spellbound at the other side of her first experiences in Hillwood. She too found herself renewing her acquaintance with tears as she heard of the jealousies, the pranks, the mild sadism, and finally the scene at the tenement building where the Sawyers lived.  
  
"...and they were crying, both of them, together! I couldn't handle it; I had a breakdown on the spot. Phoebe had to slap me to bring me out of it."  
"Whoa!"  
"Exactly. And then later, after we made up with her, and that Mitchell guy called changing his mind about the job, they were so happy. I mean, there they were, the poorest people we'd ever met, and for all I know no mother just the two of them, and yet so happy..."  
She broke down yet again; this was not a good day for Helga's self- control. She'd been sweeping these things under the rug for so long, as per her father's instructions. And now the rug had been pulled back, and she found herself in mortal combat with killer dustbunnies, to extend the metaphor. She struggled to get her next words out.  
"I've never seen my dad cry, not really. Never. And then when they were happy, she was loving him so freely, so openly. And he was loving her back! She's so unafraid to show her emotions, how could I not be jealous of her? I would give anything to be able to love my dad like that. Anything."  
Arnold didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do either, so he just held her. It was enough.  
  
Lila had lost it. It was all she could do to keep herself from bawling long and loud. Fortunately the blond couple were preoccupied; otherwise they would have discovered her. On the other side, Brainy too was in agony. His heart went out to both girls; he longed to comfort them. Helga had Arnold, so Brainy looked across the way, toward Lila. Seeing her so upset and being unable to do anything about it tore at him. Eventually...  
  
For part of Helga, despite the circumstances, she was in paradise. Right now, she was closer to her beloved than she had ever been, physically and otherwise. He had found out many of her secrets, had comforted her, had been a shoulder for her to cry on, had held her, was holding her still. She felt like she could die right then and there, so full she considered her life at that point. Or better, she felt like she could almost tell him... but wait. What was that? A pulse she could feel coming from Arnold, a vibration, almost like...  
Laughter.  
Arnold was laughing. At her? After all that had happened, all that she had told him? Someone was really asking for it, bucko!  
She swung around to face him, her brows lowered to a dangerous level. "All right, you'd BETTER have an explanation for laughing!"  
Arnold, sporting a faint smile, immediately became conciliatory. "I'm sorry, Helga. It's not you, it's us; it's the situation."  
"Wha-?"  
"Well, look at us! Think about it; this morning, would you have ever thought that anything like this could ever happen, the two of us like this?"  
Helga did think about it. While she'd had fantasies about just such a situation, she had never seriously given it any thought that it could come true. The realization, along with the fulfillment of parts of her dreams, hit her, causing a bit of giddiness. While she managed to hold the giddiness in check, there was nothing she could do to stop the chuckles she found leaving her own mouth.  
The two of them had a good laugh, then settled down again. Arnold faced her once again.  
"It's good to be able to laugh, isn't it?"  
"snort, yeah." Another prolonged silence followed.  
Arnold then turned to Helga, took her by the hand, again, and summoned up all the earnestness he could muster; which for him was second nature. "Helga, I don't know what's going to happen with regard to this, I don't know what to do about it, but I will keep thinking about it until I figure out something."  
"I know you will, and that's enough. Just knowing that you're on my side..."  
"Well, I am. And another thing: if you ever need to talk to someone about this, about anything, I'm here."  
"For that matter, you can feel free to talk to me about anything that might be bothering you, too."  
"Thanks. Don't worry, Helga; you're not alone anymore."  
Helga could only smile; her heart and mind too full of words. But Arnold reconsidered.  
"Wait, maybe I'm overstepping the bounds there. I guess you already tell Phoebe about all of this."  
"No I don't. She probably knows some of it at least, but it's not from me telling her."  
"I would think you would tell your best friend."  
"Do you tell Gerald these things, like how about what happened at the beach?"  
"He wouldn't understand that, but Phoebe would."  
"True. Well, do you tell him how you feel about your parents?"  
"I see what you're getting at. It's just something you don't talk about."  
"Exactly."  
"Hey, Arnold!"  
  
It was Gerald, who accompanied by Phoebe was now approaching them. "Speak of the devil." Helga muttered.  
Arnold gave her that look, one eyebrow raised, one lowered.  
She got the message. "I'll go easy on him." she said.  
Which was about all she had a chance to say, as Gerald came running up in between them just after they broke off their embrace, just in time for him to not see it.  
"Hey Arn- Helga?"  
"Congratulations, Geraldo, you pass the eye exam."  
"Right." Gerald then pulled his best friend aside. "Arnold, what're you doing with Helga Pataki?"  
"I heard that, Tall Hair Boy. For your information, Arnoldo was bringing me up to speed on the group project; right?" Helga came to Arnold's rescue, as it were.  
Arnold caught on. "Right. In fact, Helga, there's a little bit more I didn't get to tell you; can I borrow a sheet of paper so I can write it for you?"  
"Um, sure, whatever floats your boat, football-head." The books were still with Helga, at her feet. She picked up the little pink one, turned it to a blank page, and tearing out said page handed it to Arnold. "But I can only spare one sheet so you'd better write small."  
But Gerald still wasn't satisfied. "Wait, Arnold, why write it instead of telling her?"  
Now it was Phoebe's turn to come to the rescue, a role at which she'd had considerably more experience. "It's because I'm here, Gerald."  
"That's right, Geraldo. I mean, she's my best friend, but rules are rules. She hasn't told me what she's up to with Brainy and Liii-la, and she shouldn't. Same reason."  
"Right."  
"Oh."  
"Here you go, Helga." said Arnold, coming back into the scene; he'd had to find a surface on which to lay the sheet of paper while he wrote. "You might want to wait until you get home to read it."  
"Doi! That's what I was going to do, football-head." Then it was her turn to make a couple uncomfortable. "Wait, what are you two doing together?"  
"Uh, looking for you two of course, right Phoebe?"  
"Oh. Right."  
"Anyway," said Gerald, "now that we've found each other I guess we'd better get going?"  
Murmurs of agreement were heard as the group of four dispersed. Arnold and Gerald, after the customary thumb wiggle, went in one direction, Arnold looking back briefly at Helga.  
She went in the other direction. "Yo! Phoebe!"  
"Coming!" Phoebe called back, but she hung back for a bit; she suspected something.  
  
Her suspicion was confirmed as, from either side of her, Brainy and Lila came out of the bushes; they met each other where Phoebe stood.  
"So how did it go?"  
"Harrowing." the other two intoned in unison.  
"What now?"  
"Olga." was the only word Lila said before she ran in the direction Olga had.  
"Phoebe! What's taking you so-- Brainy? What're you doing here?"  
"wheeze, wheeze, uh, I dunno." And with that, and a weak wave, he too split the scene.  
"So what was that all about?"  
"Oh, just talking about the project, like with you and Arnold."  
"Like me and Arnold, huh?" she teased.  
"Oh, stop it."  
"Maybe we should stop off and get YOU some ice cream?"  
"Really, I mean, Brainy? Please!" were the last words heard as Helga and Phoebe deserted the area.  
  
Meanwhile, a few hundred yards away, Lila was on the lookout for her 'Big Sis'. In due course, she found her, sprawled flat on the wet grass; or at least it was wet around her.  
"Olga?"  
"sigh Hello, Lila."  
"Let me help you up." She did so.  
Lila decided to wait for Olga to start the conversation they would have. Which meant she had a long wait. When Olga did find the words, they were dark, depressing, not at all the Olga to which Lila had become accustomed.  
"I suppose you'll no longer want me as your Big Sis."  
"What? Why ever not, Olga?"  
"Isn't it obvious? You heard Helga; If I'm that bad at being a big sister to my real sister--"  
"Olga!" Olga wasn't used to hearing such a tone from Lila either, a tone that could best be described as commanding. It got her attention.  
"You're right, Olga. I did hear what Helga said, about the failures in your family including your part in them. But that has no bearing on what I feel for you. Now that you know what you've done wrong, and how, you won't make the same mistakes again."  
"But--"  
"Olga, listen to me. When you fail, it's not the time to give up; that would be the worst thing you could do right now. What you must now do is go back in there and fix things."  
It was a script, the bare bones of which had been sketched in group meetings, but Lila was ad-libbing parts of it and doing a good job. She was liking this forceful side of her nature more and more, which would have worried her had she thought about it.  
"Olga, now is the time when Helga needs you the most. You need to be there for her, to be what you weren't in the past. You have to make things right with her. She needs you and you need her, now more than ever. You have to make this up to her, to stick up for her, to watch out for her. To be a big sister, a true sister, like you should always have been to her, like you have been to me."  
The levee in Olga's face finally appeared to hold back the flood. "You're right, Lila. I must make this up to her. I must right to her whom I have so wronged! But how?"  
Lila smiled. "With a little help from a friend."  
"You'd be willing to help me with this? Why?"  
"Olga, you have been everything I could want in a Big Sis. You have done so much for me, now how could I not want to do something for you?"  
A grateful smile on her face, Olga nodded. "All right. We'll do this together then. What should we do first?"  
Lila hoisted the camera. "Go to the beeper emporium."  
"Why there?"  
"That's where your father makes commercials, isn't it? Come on; I have a plan."  
The plan, for now, is lost to local ears as the sis's --- Big and Little --- found their way to the path, and then, Big Bob's Beepers.  
  
Blocks away, another distaff two some was having a similarly earnest conversation.  
"Oh, you should've seen it, Pheebs. Everything Arnold did was perfect! How he held on to me, refusing to let go even while I was hitting him. And then when I was holding him, he was still holding me, just as tightly!"  
"That's wonderful, Helga!"  
"I'm telling you, Phoebe, he was an angel of mercy. He must have been sent from Heaven to be there for me at my time of direst need; who knows what I'd be doing by now if he hadn't come along."  
"Helga, you have no idea how happy I am for you."  
"And you can't possibly have any idea how happy I am for myself. He's an angel, a flaxen-haired angel. If, God forbid, I should outlive him I will see to it that he is canonized; he's already met all of the qualifications for sainthood this side of the Great Beyond and he's just entered his teens."  
"But you don't even know if he's Catholic."  
"It doesn't matter. Hey, if I were Jewish I'd think he was the Messiah."  
"All right, Helga, you're starting to frighten me. I'm almost certain this is coming dangerously close to--"  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."  
"I mean, I realize you worship him and all--"  
"You don't know, Pheebs, you just don't know."  
Phoebe could see that line of conversation was getting nowhere, so she dropped it. "So have you told him?"  
"What? Told him what?"  
"You know, about, Ice Cream."  
"Oh. That." Helga chewed it over for a few seconds. "Phoebe, I can't tell him that, not now! He just saved my life; how could I tell him I've been in love with him since pre-school?"  
Oh dear! went through Phoebe's mind.  
"I love him, Phoebe. I love him now more than I ever did. But I can't let him know, and I don't know when that will change."  
Oh dear, oh dear Phoebe kept thinking; enough 'oh dears' were going through her thoughts to make a herd.  
"How does he do this to me, Phoebe? I mean, can it be quantified, can it be scientifically examined? How he manages, without trying, to hold sway over my emotions, my mind, my very soul?"  
"I don't know, Helga. I wish I could help you there."  
"He's doing more than enough to help me. Like I told him, just knowing that he's on my side..." she trailed off.  
They continued in silence until they reached the Pataki brownstone.  
"Well, here's where we separate. Catch you later."  
"Good afternoon, Helga."  
"Sayonara, Pheebs."  
Phoebe smiled; her best friend tried, she really did. Sometimes. She would have responded, but the door had already closed. Having nothing else to do but go home, she aimed her feet toward the nearest bus stop that she might do that.  
  
click  
"Is that you, Olga?"  
"No, Dad. It's me, Helga."  
"Oh, the girl. It's about time you got home, Olga."  
Like you care, BOB! Helga thought. No further conversation took place. She slipped the family Bible into its usual place, to which a certain Wheel-watcher was oblivious; and then it was up to her room.  
  
Minutes later, at the Heyerdahl residence:  
  
click  
"Phoebe?"  
"Yes, father."  
"You cut it close this time."  
"I know, but I'm still in early, if not by much."  
Phoebe was halfway to her room by now, when a thought struck her. She turned around and seconds later found herself back in the family room.  
"Father?"  
"Yes?"  
"The other day I found out that a friend of mine had someone in his family tree who's a bit of a local legend."  
"The kind of which your friend Gerald tells?"  
"As a matter of fact I'd already heard him tell a story of someone else in the same family. Anyway, this friend told me I'd understand if there was someone 10 feet tall in my family tree."  
"laughter Oh, he did?"  
"Yes. I was wondering if there is anyone famous in our ancestry."  
"Well, there is cousin Thor."  
"Cousin Thor?"  
"Actually, he's my grandfather's cousin, and a distant cousin at that. But he is a relative."  
"Wait, Thor Heyerdahl?"  
"I see you've heard of him."  
"Of course I have! The Kon-Tiki, the Ra II... And he's related to us."  
"Everyone is eventually."  
"True. Well, thank you for telling me."  
"You're welcome."  
Those were the last words Phoebe would utter that day until dinner. In the meantime, she was in her room.  
At her desk, she unfolded a piece of paper Brainy had managed to slip her under Helga's nose.  
"Next meeting, bring a full package of tissues. You will need every one."  
  
Meanwhile, Helga was facing her shrine. She too unfolded a piece of paper, once a page in her little pink book.  
"Helga,  
Now that I understand somewhat, I'll try not to take it too hard if you still feel the need to pick on me when we're with others. Otherwise, I meant everything I said.  
Arnold.  
P.S. I know you told me not to say it, but I will still wish it: Happy Birthday anyway. Someday, your birthday will be a happy occasion; I will do every thing I can to make that a reality."  
Helga lowered the paper and regarded the image of her beloved, tears once again threatening to overpower her. "This has been the happiest birthday in my life, Arnold. Thanks to you."  
"Thanks to you."  
  
I hope that doesn't count as a cliffhanger; I certainly didn't intend it to be. I will continue this when I can, that is, when I have some ideas which I think are coming, and by now I'm rambling. Please continue to review, and those of you who haven't feel free to start. I'm Nftnat, on e- mail I'm nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all when I cy'all.  
  
Dedicated to Thor Heyerdahl 1914-2002 


	18. Shifting Into...

Finally, I update this page. What can I say, real life intrudes and imposes numerous commitments, not the least of which is my brother and his wife coming in from Florida, but y'all don't want to hear about my personal life. Y'all want to see the next chapter of this, as I have gathered from the reviews. Want no more, for here it is.  
  
One of my favorite parts of doing this: the reviews. With the 15 for chapter 17, I now have an average of 9 reviews per chapter, yay me. Or yay y'all, because y'all make it happen. I'm not saying that I wouldn't still write this even if I didn't get any reviews, but I treasure each one, and I will take the trouble to reply, they mean that much to me.  
HobbitatHeart, thanks, and you did review before, back on Chapter 2. Don't give it a second thought. While I value every review, I realize that we have our lives and can only devote so much time to the net; look how long it took me to get this chapter up. 'One of the best', all right; I'm in good company.  
Sleather Chonkers, thank you. Since you don't want it spoiled I'll say, 'Mmmm, could be.'  
Paradoxical Reality, thanks. To me Thor Heyerdahl seemed a natural fit. I dunno what made me think that; maybe the name Heyerdahl? ;) Of course Helga is religious; she's the high priestess of the football-headed love god! Seriously, I hadn't really thought of her being Catholic either, but the more I think of it the more sense it makes; dunno why. I think I will tread lightly on religion though; something tells me I would be walking into a mine field. But regardless of what religion she is she would think Arnold's a saint and would imo do what she could to secure that status for him. Kind of like Livia asking Caligula and Claudius to name her Queen Of Heaven in I Claudius er sum junk. Yes, I think that Lila and Olga are simply misguided; Brainy is --- directly and indirectly --- giving them guidance which will pay off. Bob and Miriam will find out, and I'm planning even more --- and louder --- angst all around in that one. Thanks again for your kind words; I hope to continue to earn your confidence.  
Ms. Prongs, thank you. I'd say you have nothing to be ashamed of in comparison to this. I've scanned your ongoing fic and I am impressed. And I'm not alone; according to my figures you currently have 11 reviews per chapter while this fic currently has 9 reviews per chapter, but who's counting. Hopefully I'll get around to reviewing it. And I loved A Thousand Miles. Imo I can see similarities in how compelling it is.  
Anoriel, thanks. Nah, I couldn't let her tell him so soon; be patient as this will be drawn out for quite some time.  
Emotional DJ Girl, thank you, I think. Wow, I'm generating drooling Brainy fangirls; my life rocks. I wonder if it's because of his forays into DJ-dom. shrugs  
purplepincushion, thanks.  
Cosmosfan, thank you three times. I guess again the repeat review hitteth, not that I'm complaining.  
Poison Ivory, thanks. I try. I try to put in references to anything and everything wherever I can. I didn't really remember Rhonda using the same lines from Merchant of Venice, but it makes sense; that's just one of the Shakespeare passages that have permeated the culture. Feisty, yes. And it was scattered, but like you said... As to who is Thor Heyerdahl? The answer's just a web search away. Explorer, adventurer, archaeologist, etc. ever hear of the voyage of the Kon-Tiki or the Ra II? A good place to start might be http:ion chapter; I'll explain when I post it. Please continue to review, y'all. I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat. Cy'all. 


	19. Still Shifting...

I knew there was something I was forgetting. No, I didn't really forget about this; I've been working on it night and day. Aside from difficulties like a death in the family, trying to train a new puppy, a graduation at the school where I work, and just plain old writers block; this piece of writing did something with which I should be familiar by now: it grew on me. That piece with the montage I mentioned? Next time; it just didn't seem to go together with this. I figured it had better be released separately. Hopefully, I've justified your continued enthusiasm and support with this and succeeding chapters. I'm still working on the montage and at least I know exactly what I want. Almost. And it's that 'almost' that guarantees delay, delay, delay. I'll try to keep that to a minimum.  
  
Speaking of reviews, as Goofy would say, gawrsh! I continue to be flattered and humbled. Thank y'all for the kind words, and I'll keep trying to deserve them.  
Thanks, Ms. Prongs. Yeah, I'm liking that too, obviously; and I'm building on it. This will continue to develop in diverse ways; you'll see. I liked that line, too. Yes, Brainy should be happy; this IS the Brainy Saga after all. And I meant what I said about your fics. As to reviewing, we'll see; obviously I'm a bit slow at getting anything done.  
Thank you, JESS. I'll just say I agree with you.  
Thanks, Ivory. I think we're thinking along the same lines. And the complexity will continue.  
Thank you, Roxy, for that awesome review and the awesome IM. The planning will continue.  
Thanks, Sleather. They do seem mature for 12, 13 year olds. Is it just me, or do the characters on the show seem mature for fourth-graders? shrug I didn't think Phoebe was out of line; her conduct was well explained by Lila. Brainy should've known better; even he's not perfect. ;)  
  
Thank you, Cosmosfan, if you're still there. I'm floored. Really.  
Thanks, SSBM. I hoped you liked it; I've been working on it night and day. I look forward to Three Months.  
Thank you, Paradoxical Reality (is there a way to shorten that?:) ) ; I think you get it. Phoebe's motivation I mean. I'm glad my intentions continue to bear fruit like they apparently do. Trust me; when the time comes, Olga will come on like gangbusters, and if there's anyone who doesn't like her after that, I give up. I'd better stop before I give away the plot.  
Nory, mmmmmmm, COULD be. Thanks.  
And thank you, Houkanno Yuuhou. You're right about just about everything you mentioned. You continue to flatter me. As to making someone cry, it's not like he's never done it before. I've seen proof in Arnold's Halloween and Arnold's Thanksgiving. Then there was Quantity Time. I believe that no one is beyond hope; not Lila, not Olga, and not even Big Bob Pataki. I can't speak to the similarities, but I'll try to keep it as realistic as possible.  
Thank you, Ryoko-onee. Even the end of this will only be the end of the beginning. Here's more.  
Thanks, zali. Hmm, wondering if you're from Hawaii. I liked those parts too. I'm still trying to keep them in character, and to keep it up. Here's the latest.  
  
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. "How Can We Be Lovers" is from the Michael Bolton album Soul Provider on Columbia records, a unit of Sony.  
  
"...and that's why I can't tell him."  
"I see."  
"Phoebe, tell me again why we're going over stuff you already know?"  
"I just thought that if we talked out the whole situation I'd see an option I hadn't before."  
"And?"  
"I might see something, but it would require a significant amount of patience."  
"Well, what is it? I'm desperate enough to try almost anything."  
"Anything short of telling him."  
"Well, yes. So?"  
"You might need to spend more time with him."  
"Phoebe--"  
"Hear me out. There have been times when he could barely stand you. True?"  
"True."  
"Those were times you were especially harsh, toward him in particular. True?"  
"True."  
"But now you've dared to let your guard down around him, somewhat. True?"  
"True."  
"And how has he been acting since then?"  
"pause I dunno, okkay I guess."  
"Just, okkay?"  
"He's been real nice, all right? Criminey, why are you being so nosy all of a sudden?"  
"Because I want my best friend to be happy. Is there anything wrong with that?"  
"sigh No. But Phoebe... look, would you like it if I tried to hook you up with Geraldo?"  
"...um..."  
"'T'swhat I thought."  
"Would you like to hear my reasons for your spending time with Arnold or not?"  
"sigh all right, go ahead Pheebs."  
"I think this would be the best way to get Arnold to like you, if he doesn't like you already."  
"WHAT!?!"  
"You heard me."  
long pause  
"All right Phoebe, start over from the beginning."  
"From the dawn of time, or farther back than that?"  
"You know what I mean! What's going on, Phoebe, or have you finally snapped?"  
"Snapped?"  
"This project you're doing; I saw what it did to you the first day! And all this time having to work with Brainy and Liii-la, it's finally driven you over the edge hasn't it?"  
"Helga, I assure you I am as sane now as I ever was. I'm simply trying to tell you--"  
"That Arnold might like me? Whatever gave you that idea?"  
"You might not have noticed, but he has looked at you. Even when you were being a bully I saw him looking, like he was trying to figure you out."  
"So I'm a lab experiment to him?"  
"More like a mystery, an object of fascination to him. He wonders about you."  
"pfft, yeah, right."  
"Really."  
"Next you'll be saying he's been flirting with me."  
"Well..."  
"You're kidding."  
"Do you remember when we went to the wrong restaurant? We wound up doing k.p. to work off the bill."  
"Yeah."  
"Do you want to tell me what happened, or shall I tell you?"  
"I, I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Helga, it's me, Phoebe. Remember, right after he told you he thought what you did was sophisticated?"  
"Uhhhhhh..."  
"He then squirted you and then he--"  
"How? There is no way you could possibly know that! Your back was to us; you couldn't have seen the squirt OR the wink."  
"So he did wink at you."  
"You mean you DIDN'T know?"  
"I had an idea, but I wasn't certain."  
"I still don't see how you could have figured out that much."  
"I have ears, Helga. I heard what he said, I heard a squirt--"  
"But you couldn't have SEEN anything! Like I said, your back was to us. You were in front of us, facing the same direction we were."  
"Those restaurant kitchens are full of highly reflective surfaces. I only had to look up. I wasn't certain it was a wink, but otherwise..."  
"You made your point. So, sigh you actually think that there could be something there?"  
"There are few things of which I am more certain."  
"sigh I just don't know..."  
"Helga, I know what I'm talking about. I consider myself an astute observer of people. You knew that when you decided to tell me the identity of your obsession; you knew that I had already figured it out--"  
"All right, Pheebs, you've made your point, criminey!"  
"So you'll do it?"  
"I'll think about it."  
"Helga..."  
"Well, whadda ya want, for me to call him up and make a date with him?"  
"Not if you really have a problem with that. Of course, in these times when gender roles are falling by the way, it is becoming accepted that the girl is as able to initiate making a date as the boy is."  
"That's not the point, Phoebe, and you know it."  
"Yes, I do. Helga, it wouldn't even have to be a date. You could just ask to talk with him. You told me about the same thing happening last week but even if you hadn't I would've known you'd been unburdening yourself; you looked more peaceful last week than I'd seen you in some time."  
"And you think that more of the same could do me good, could even get me closer to him?"  
"Helga, after that Ronnie Matthews debacle, I never thought that I would hear myself quoting another pop prima donna; but Michael Bolton was right, how CAN you be lovers if you can't be friends?"  
"Lovers? Phoebe!"  
"You know what I mean."  
long pause  
"What do you have to lose?"  
"Everything. My self-respect."  
"Is it worth that much to you? And Arnold already knows almost everything there is to know. I stress the word 'almost'."  
more silence  
"It is only logical that the closer you get to him, the more comfortable you will be with the idea of telling him."  
even more silence, then... "I'll tell you what. If he asks for us to get together I'll agree. Fair enough?"  
"Yes."  
"But that's a big 'if', mind you. I mean, what're the odds that he'd call me and ask to get together-- BEEP "  
"What's that?"  
"The call waiting. Could I call you back?"  
"Certainly. Talk to you later then?"  
"Right. Bye, Pheebs."  
"Ja mata."  
"Right."  
click  
  
click  
So the ended the conversation. Phoebe was at her house; specifically, she was in her room, as were the others in the trio. An unofficial group planning session was, well, in session.  
"Nice improvisation, Phoebe." Brainy said, immediately after the hang- up.  
"Thank you."  
"Not to mention unexpected. I didn't know that."  
"There's actually something about Helga you didn't know?"  
"I didn't know the specifics of that; I can't be by her all the time. Was it the time she won that restaurant coupon?"  
"Yes."  
knock knock knock  
"Come in."  
Through the door stepped Reba Heyerdahl, bearing a tray laden with food and drink. "I thought you and your friends would be ready for a snack about now, Phoebe."  
"Thank you, Mother."  
"Thank you, Mrs. Heyerdahl." Brainy and Lila chorused.  
As the door closed behind her mother, Phoebe adopted an expression that said, "Huh?" Her face cleared, however, as she remembered that as Brainy had already talked with her mother nothing was to be gained or lost from wheezing around her.  
Phoebe tried to take the lead in planning. "So now that I've laid the groundwork for tomorrow--"  
But was derailed again by Brainy. "You mean now that WE'VE laid the groundwork. You worked on Helga while I've been working on Arnold."  
"But you've been here the whole time."  
"Another note?" Lila broke her silence.  
"Exactly. They'll keep her in his mind. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if he was the other call Helga got that caused her to hang up on you, Phoebe."  
"Oh don't be ridiculous; something like that would be too contrived to be believable."  
"Truth is stranger than fiction, Phoebe."  
How right he was.  
  
click "Hello?"  
"Helga?"  
"ARNOLD! I mean, what do YOU want?!"  
"Helga, it's just me. Remember? You don't have to pretend to hate me anymore when it's just the two of us?"  
"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry Arnold; force of habit."  
"It's all right."  
"So why did you call?"  
"Umm..."  
"'Umm...' would be nice, or might be if I knew what it meant. Now make sense, Hair Boy."  
"All right. Do you have any plans for tomorrow afternoon?"  
"No, why?"  
"Maybe we could get together and talk."  
"Talk?"  
"Yeah, like we did last Saturday."  
"You mean...?"  
"You don't have to tell me any secrets if you don't want to, and I'm not asking you to cry either because I know how upsetting that can be, although if you decide it's necessary, I'd be right there to, to hold your hand or whatever."  
"What?!?" She couldn't believe it. Arnold, her Arnold, the boy --- now a young man --- whom she had been worshipping for most of her misbegotten youth, was practically asking her out on a date, not two minutes after Phoebe had talked her into accepting if he asked? This was too much of a coincidence. "Arnold, have you been talking with anyone about what we've been talking about?"  
"No! I told you I wouldn't tell."  
"You haven't heard from anyone to cause you to do this?"  
"Heard from anyone?" Arnold was now a bit nervous. And understandably so; he had found from bitter experience how hard it was for him to keep a secret once it was found out that he even had one. And while he hadn't really heard from anyone, he was at this moment holding in his hot little hand the latest mysterious missive from his cryptic correspondent. This one read, "Weren't those caves cozy?" Which had taken his mind back to exploring for the treasure of Wheezin' Ed. He'd remembered Helga jumping into his arms. Which wasn't the only time that had ever happened, now that he thought about it. That time she'd helped them save Mighty Pete...  
"HEY ARNOLD!!"  
"Wha-?"  
"You zoned out on me there. Have you been daydreaming?"  
"Uh, yeah."  
"tsk , you are such a football-head, you know that?"  
"Every time I look in a mirror. What does that mean anyway, other than the shape of my head?"  
"Don't change the subject!"  
"I'm sorry. What was it?"  
"I was asking if you'd been talking to someone. Have you heard from Phoebe lately?"  
"Phoebe?"  
"Yeah, Phoebe. My best friend? Dark hair, Oriental features, studious to say the least, one of the nicest people either one of us know?"  
"I know who she is, Helga. Um, no, not since the game last week. We're having one tonight, right?"  
"You're doing it again, Arnold."  
"Sorry."  
"So you haven't heard from Phoebe lately. Has she mentioned anything to you?"  
"Well, we've been discussing bonsai lately, but that's about it."  
"Bonsai?"  
"Yeah. Remember that night I found you two taking a walk on my fire escape?"  
"Um, yeah."  
"I guess Phoebe saw me tending my bonsai because she's been sharing advice on bonsai care with me since then. She does have one herself, right?"  
"Uh, yeah, in her room, next to her bed. She had to replace it a couple years back, some kind of accident... So she hasn't mentioned anything to you, about anyone?"  
"No, just bonsai. Why?"  
"Uh, no reason. It's just--" Her voice was interrupted by other voices from elsewhere in the house, raised voices which penetrated even through her closed and locked door. One of those voices she was still getting used to hearing at that level.  
It was a level loud enough to be overheard.  
"Sorry about that, Arnold."  
"It's not your fault."  
"I'm not sure; this past week it's like all the arguments have been about me, and I haven't even done anything!"  
"Who's been arguing?"  
"Bob and Olga. I don't understand it; it's like she's been defending me, every time I've been dissed, all week!"  
"Maybe Olga's trying to be a better sister."  
"snort Part of me actually wants to believe that but... Maybe you're right. Maybe we should meet tomorrow."  
"All right. Same time and place?"  
"Yeah yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat, football-head."  
"See you in a few hours, then?"  
"What?"  
"The game? You never did say if we had one today, come to think of it."  
"Oh, um, yeah, we do."  
"All right then."  
"Right, like you said, in a few hours."  
"Goodbye, Helga."  
"Goodbye, Arnold."  
click  
Within one second of hanging up on one of her two closest confidants, Helga's finger impaled a certain speed dial button which would connect her with the other one.  
"Someone has some explaining to do."  
  
Meanwhile, at the Heyerdahls, the ringing phone interrupted the latest round of conspiring.  
"Hold on, you two."  
"Holding." the other two chorused.  
Phoebe grimaced. "Stop it."  
"Stopping."  
Choosing to ignore that one, Phoebe lifted the receiver. And was immediately assaulted over the air.  
"Hello? -- Helga? -- What? -- What do you mean-? -- Did I what? -- Wait, Helga, -- "  
Brainy was quick to catch on. "Come on," he said to Lila as he moved to help her up, "we'd better give her some privacy."  
Lila silently acquiesced, reaching her hands out toward Brainy's. Both of them now on their feet, they left the room, Phoebe still attempting to decipher her friend's expostulations.  
  
They hadn't taken half a dozen steps each before they met Phoebe's mother.  
"Taking a break?"  
"In a way, Mrs. Heyerdahl." Lila responded. "Helga called and we figured the two of them might appreciate being able to talk without us eavesdropping, accidentally or not."  
"Yes, they would appreciate that, knowing Helga. So what are the two of you going to do while you're waiting for Phoebe to finish?"  
Lila was about to respond, but was surprised when Brainy spoke up. "I was thinking we could have a word with each other. I wonder if you could direct us to a place where we won't be in the way of you or your husband?"  
"Now isn't that considerate of you. You could use the deck. It's on up at that end of the hall; do you see that door?"  
"Yes ma'am."  
"It opens out onto the deck. Y'all will be able to find your way out there all right?"  
"Yes ma'am."  
"Okkay. Now you two behave yourselves and I'll try to hurry Phoebe along."  
"Yes ma'am, and she needn't hurry on our account. Thank you, Mrs. Heyerdahl."  
"You're welcome."  
Brainy turned, intending to wave Lila on ahead of him, only to find her with a strange look on her face. Like it was her turn to question him. Pondering this caused his face to resemble hers, but he kept his questions in check; rather, he extended an elbow, which she took. Then, arm in arm, they strolled down the hall toward the door which would open onto the second floor deck. Leaving a bemused matron of the house looking on.  
"Such a cute couple", she found herself thinking, before she changed direction and started walking, her destination being the door to her daughter's room.  
  
Said daughter was already having her hands full over the phone line.  
  
"Helga, not fifteen minutes ago we were just like this, talking to each other over the phone. You told me then that I wasn't making sense; now it seems the roles have reversed. Perhaps you should be the one to start from the beginning. What's going on?"  
"Maybe you should tell me, Belle Boyd."  
"Belle Boyd? The Confederate spy?"  
"Congratulations; you get an A in American history."  
"And you get an A in confusion, not to mention blathering. If there's something you have against me --- as I deduce from what sense I could make of what you've been saying --- then just make it clear, accuse me, ask a question, something!"  
"What have you told Arnold?"  
"Finally. What have I told Arnold about what?"  
"What do you think?"  
"You?"  
"Me."  
"Helga, I can keep a secret. I haven't said a word about you to him."  
  
"Have you mentioned anything?"  
"Helga, wait a minute, could you at least tell me what brought this on?"  
"I just got off the phone with him--"  
"Was that the other call?"  
"Yes, and don't interrupt."  
"Sorry."  
"He asked me to get together with him tomorrow, like we did last week."  
"That's wonderful, Helga!"  
"It's suspicious is what it is. How do you explain that he was asking me to do the exact same thing that you had just talked me into doing?"  
"Coincidence?"  
"I don't believe in coincidence, and I thought you didn't either."  
"I don't, but someone told me a while ago that truth is stranger than fiction; and the more of these things I see and hear about, the more inclined I am to believe it."  
"Phoebe--"  
"Besides, you said he was the other call that caused you to hang up on me; when would I have had the opportunity to suggest such a thing to him?"  
"Um, well, you got me there... Wait! You could have done that in advance."  
"I suppose I could have, but I didn't."  
"Phoebe--"  
knock knock knock "Phoebe, you might want to keep it short. Your friends are out on the deck waiting for you to finish."  
Phoebe almost jumped. "Yes, mother."  
She then turned back to the phone. "Helga, the only thing I've been discussing with Arnold lately is bonsai."  
"Bonsai?"  
"Bonsai. You know, those miniature trees, as you call them? Like the one by my bed?"  
"So he does have a bonsai?"  
"You mean you haven't noticed, as many times as you must have been in his room?"  
"I, I hadn't really thought to look, it hadn't exactly been uppermost in my thoughts."  
"Not even this past couple weeks when you didn't have to keep a low profile in there?"  
"I, I can't talk about that, that's about the project."  
"You're evading."  
"When did you start talking bonsai with him anyway?"  
And the evasions continue went through Phoebe's mind. "Remember that sleepwalking incident? We mistook his bonsai for him, shadow-wise? You must have noticed he had it then!"  
Exactly what he said Helga thought, before catching herself for the umpteenth and... oh, who's keeping track? "Uh, guess I forgot... look, can we just forget I brought it up?"  
"Forgetting."  
"Good."  
"Except,"  
"What?"  
"Are you going to accept his invitation?"  
Helga allowed herself to smile. "I already have."  
"Good. I'm so happy for you, Helga."  
"Hey, it's not like he asked me to m..., m..., m...,"  
"Marry him?"  
"Uh....."  
"One step at a time, Helga." Now Phoebe was smiling.  
"Phoebe!"  
And laughing. She was thoroughly enjoying this new openness she had with her best friend since the sham of the "ice cream" secret had been laid bare to both of them and swept aside. Good-natured ribbing; one of the fringe benefits of being able to be honest with your best friend.  
  
Meanwhile, out on the deck, Brainy was taking in the view. And enjoying it.  
While he was at it, he admired the Heyerdahl house.  
"Three stories, an outdoor deck on the second floor, a fencing room, and I'm sure there's even more we don't know about. This is the best- looking house I've ever seen. If Phoebe's family isn't rich, they're close enough." He slowly turned around to face Lila, his gaze scanning around the deck. "Heh, ever notice how that umbrella looks like a satellite dish from a distance?"  
He stopped as he noticed, by sight and by hearing, that Lila wasn't into it that day.  
"What?"  
"Have you been here before?"  
"No, why?"  
"You were actually conversant with her."  
"I'd spoken with her on the phone last week."  
"And didn't see the need to wheeze."  
"Over the phone, actually I saw the need to not wheeze."  
"Oh?"  
Brainy smiled. "Lila, if you answered the phone and heard heavy breathing, what would you say?"  
"Hello, Brainy."  
"Fair enough. But what if you didn't know it was me? Or what if your father had answered the phone?"  
Lila nodded. "I see." Then she fell silent.  
Brainy could see that whatever was troubling her, it hadn't been resolved. "Problem?"  
She was preoccupied to the extent that he had to repeat himself. "What?"  
"You seem out of it today."  
"I talked with Olga before I came over."  
"Bad news?"  
"She's been better. This past week she's been standing up for Helga, out of sight of Helga mostly. And it's been an uphill battle."  
Brainy sat down in a deck chair next to the one in which Lila was seated. Now he too was in a moody mood, as it were. "I'm not surprised to hear that. You used the right word, Lila; it is and will continue to be a battle. It's going to get worse before it gets better. And when the confrontation happens --- and it will happen, there's no way around that --- it will be ugly."  
A sad Lila closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know if Olga will be able to handle it."  
Brainy nodded. "That's why you have to toughen her up."  
Her head shot up in shock. "Me?!?"  
"You are her only confidant on this matter. There's no one else to whom she can turn."  
"But I can't toughen anyone up! I'm almost as emotionally weak as she is!"  
"So we'll have to work on you first, then you can work on her."  
Lila was reeling; her head was in her hands, tears about to come again. "Oh, Brainy, Brainy,... I just don't know if I can."  
Brainy was at her side in a trice, trying his best to console her. "Lila?"  
Her head lifted.  
"I'm sorry about what this is doing to you, and will continue to do. All of us are suffering, you know that. Helga, Phoebe, me."  
Lila nodded.  
"If there was another way to do this we'd take it. You also know that."  
"Yes." she whispered.  
"And we haven't figured anything out. I haven't, neither has Phoebe. What about you? You're no slouch in the brains department, you still buzz in ahead of Phoebe at times. Can you think of another way to achieve our goal?"  
A disconsolate Lila mutely shook her head. Accepting her answer as though he knew what it would be but had still been holding out hope, Brainy nodded acknowledgment.  
"Then we have no choice; we have to go with this. Which means a rough ride, and you're in the driver's seat.  
She was now officially crying, a little. "I'm scared, Brainy."  
Tissues at the ready, he did what he could. "I know; so am I. But hey, we'll get through this."  
"You really think so?"  
"Always thinking positive works for Arnold, right?"  
"Not always."  
"Much of the time then. Enough for me to try it."  
A sad smile found its way onto Lila's face. "He is the role model for us, isn't he?"  
Brainy's face now sported the smile's twin. "Isn't he though. If anyone was ever worthy of Helga--"  
"Other than you."  
He now accented the sad smile with closed eyes and a shaking head. "I wasn't going to say that. But I'm glad you did." he added, looking Lila in the eyes again.  
Lila's face now threatened to revert to a crying phase. "It's going to take a miracle to pull this off."  
The sad smile returned to Brainy's face. "We'll just have to see to it that that happens, then, won't we?"  
"Just like that?"  
"Arnold works miracles all the time; how hard can it be?"  
Now it was hard to tell whether Lila was laughing or crying; maybe both.  
  
The tender moment was stopped when four young ears heard the door to the deck open. The owners thereof composed themselves just in time to face the lady of the house.  
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."  
"Oh, no, Mrs. Heyerdahl." Lila said. "I was upset about something, and Brainy was trying to help me through it."  
"Anything I can help with?"  
"No, I'm fine now."  
"All right. Oh, Phoebe's almost finished with her call. Y'all might want to head in."  
"Yes ma'am."  
"Thank you, Mrs. Heyerdahl." Brainy added as they passed her.  
  
Once out of earshot, the planning continued.  
"I might need to keep an eye on Phoebe and Gerald on their dates. After you, Lila." Brainy added as he opened the door into the house.  
Lila entered, followed by him.  
"Thank you. Why?"  
"To make sure they don't accidentally run into Arnold and Helga. It wouldn't do for Gerald to find out, not at all."  
"True." Lila agreed.  
But as the two of them approached the door to the room of their co- conspirator, something was nagging at her, something to which she had to give voice. "Is it Phoebe?"  
Brainy was utterly sandbagged. He blinked in incomprehension. "What?"  
  
"Is Phoebe the girl you're interested in?"  
Brainy had to think about that one, really think. His face showed it. While he was arriving at a course of action, he silently conveyed to Lila his opinion of her opinion, bewilderment mixed in with incredulity. Finally...  
"No, it's not Phoebe. Why would you think that?"  
"You seem ever so familiar with her actions, ever so interested in what she does, where she goes..."  
"Of course I'm interested in her doings; she's the best friend of my former obsession who is the subject of our project. Following the same line of logic, Helga is in this house a lot so it would follow that I would be familiar with it. But that's it."  
"Oh."  
"Besides, she's not my type."  
That brought Lila to attention. "Oh? What is your type?"  
A sidelong smirk came. "The type without a mutual attraction to one of the coolest, most popular people either of us know."  
"Gerald."  
"Of course."  
Now Lila was smiling, finally. Brainy smiled his approval; apparently he'd done her some good.  
"So do you believe me?"  
"Yes."  
By now they'd approached Phoebe's room. Also by now, Brainy was thinking out loud, a hazardous activity in which to engage.  
"I'll admit you're close, but--"  
"Oh? So who is the girl?"  
"Now Lila, we've kind of been through this before. I can't get interested in her while we're doing this. And that's all I have to say about that."  
"Brainy--"  
"Lila, please, don't ask me again."  
She saw past his glasses, to the conflict in his eyes mirroring the pain in his soul. And this time it wasn't about Helga. Knowing this, she let the matter drop as his hand rose to the door.  
knock knock  
"Come in."  
  
A minute after Brainy and Lila rejoined their colleague, Mrs. Heyerdahl came in from the deck. Had she paid closer attention while passing her daughter's door, she might have been able to overhear planning going on.  
"So did you make your next date with Gerald too?"  
"Lila!"  
"They're not really dates, Lila. They just happen to meet there and she keeps him out of our hair for as long as we'll need."  
"We're not dating! We're not really even interested in each other."  
"Is that why you give him your bread crusts?"  
"He likes the crusts; I don't. It'd be a shame to waste them."  
"Let's get back to the planning. So Phoebe, what else might I need to know about how Helga's impressed Arnold?"  
It was probably just as well that she didn't hear.  
  
That's all, folks. And I am working on the next, montage chapter as we speak. Or as you read this. Wait, how do I know when you'll be reading this; I can't be working on it all day, much as I'd like to. I'm working on it, though. Please review, y'all. I'm still Nftnat, on IM I'm still Nftnat, and on e-mail I'm still nftnataol.com . Good night everybody. 


	20. ...High Gear

And here, finally, is the long-awaited, long-hyped (by me) montage chapter. As it is a bit of a montage, keep in mind that it will be a bit scattershot. All right, a lot scattershot. But please try to bear with me as this is unexplored territory for me. Also, you should know that this chapter will be intense, a bit of an emotional roller-coaster ride. And that will get worse in succeeding chapters. There will be violence, kind of, which is strange considering I'm usually the one given to preach on my reviews (right SN?). Anyway, you've been warned.  
  
Again, the reviews overwhelm. I now officially have exactly 10 reviews per chapter (190 reviews divided by 19 chapters). I have 190 reasons to keep going with this and for those reasons I am so stoked; the reason this is going so slowly is that I'm trying to make everything perfect. Also, sometimes I work from scratch. And this chapter was supposed to go by quickly; well, maybe it is and I'm just not seeing it.  
Chinyere, or chineymange, thanks beaucoups. No, you've never reviewed any of my stuff before, unless it was under another name; but you certainly have made up for lost time. You're right; I am quite the fan of the show, and when I do something I try to do it right, which means immersing myself in my sources. I have seen potential in the series for exploring the potential in the characters, particularly Brainy, obviously. I find it hard to believe he could keep sneaking up behind Helga unless he had something on the ball, so I developed the idea of the smart Brainy. And I don't think you're long-winded at all, but I would say that.  
Thank you, cc17. Here's more.  
Thanks, Ami. But I'm not nearly finished; there is ever so much more ground to cover. I'm not surprised that you cried at times; I know I did.  
zali, thank you for both of your reviews. I'm aiming for more cuteness with those two; maybe you'd say there's some of that here, but not nearly as much as in the future. You're from the Philippines, got it. As to your question, I'm not in college, not since 1998. (Texas A&M-Texarkana, and no, I'm not an Aggie) Also, I'm not a girl.  
Thanks, Paradox. You're right, that is easier. Olga is on the job, and before I'm done I will make people like her. And Miriam will have her moments too; it's going to be intense.  
Thank you, selement. And calm yourself; I've no intention of giving up on this. I want to see where this leads as much as anyone, if not more.  
Thanks, J.T. You're right, it is predictable, but she has to have someone, doesn't she? Doesn't she? Yes, I am the history buff. I get all this stuff from reading. All I want to know is everything. I'll keep supplying you with stuff to read and review, as fast as I'm able to.  
And thank you, Miss Matched. Hoo boy, I'm responsible for these Brainy fan-girls, what am I going to do? I have never heard that song, or have I? I don't think I have. As to your review of a previous chapter, it is Job chapter 3.  
Thanks, Houkanno Yuuhou. Actually, I hadn't known of that debate until you called my attention to it, but I'm very interested in it and it gives all of us something to think about. There's quite a bit of stuff you've said to which I must devote the proverbial great deal of thought. I don't know quite how to respond, really. Would you believe I have a brother named Paul? And my grandmother had your name. You should know that the finale is far, far away; but it will be well worth it imo. I'm surprised you've not seen those episodes; oh well, Halloween and Thanksgiving aren't that far away. And I'd be the last one to complain about someone's review becoming a short story as mine usually do.  
Thank you, Helga243. Here's more.  
Thanks, Nory, or SummerRose now. Yeah, you caught me. Mmm, could be.  
Thank you, brianaluvsfootballhead. I've updated already, but keep in mind that quality takes time, and I hope this is quality. As to the other chapters, yeah, that was intense. I know, I don't like all the 'he said she said' stuff, so sometimes I go too far the other way. And yes, I did dump on Miss Felter a bit, but I needed to fill out the quartet. It's reasonable to think that Helga might have found out about Arnold's crush on her and, well, you can imagine. Speaking of imagining, mine can be quite disturbing at times, as I said at the time.  
Thanks, Hufflepuffer. I'm keeping on writing. And I did cry, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.  
Thank you, Sleather. I try to address some of the points you raise here. And I'm trying to include some A/H stuff too; the whole point is to get them together, right? And I'm working on getting Brainy to notice Lila. I'm so happy that you like her; it means that what I'm doing is working.  
This past Sunday I received two e-mails. One of them followed it with an IM compliment. You know who you are. Unfortunately, I've forgotten your name and I didn't bother to save either one; but I did appreciate both of them. Thanks.  
And thank you to the other one who e-mailed me that Sunday. Chachi, Chachi, Chachi... (all right, so I'm a Happy Days fan) I am hurrying on this.  
Thanks as well to Mandy, or PineViewGramma. Thanks for waiting.  
And SoSRomansSoS, you just made it in under the wire. Thank you too. Your IM was appreciated; it came in just after I finished these acknowledgments, people.  
  
Hey Arnold! and all Hey Arnold! concepts are created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.  
Pictures At An Exhibition was written by Modest Mussorgsky and was included by Emerson Lake & Palmer on the live Rhino album Pictures at an Exhibition.  
Unanswered Prayers was written by Pat Alger, Larry B. Bastian, and Garth Brooks; and is copyright 1989 Bait and Beer Music (Adm. by PolyGram International Publishing, Inc.) (ASCAP) / Forerunner Music, Inc. (ASCAP) / Major Bob Music Co. Inc. (ASCAP) / Mid-Summer Music, Inc. (ASCAP). All rights reserved. It was included on the album (yes, I still call them albums, I'm that old) No Fences by Garth Brooks copyright 1990 Caged Panther Music and Garthart under exclusive license to Capitol Records, and was re-released as part of the boxed set Garth Brooks The Limited Series, Capitol Records, 1998.  
  
For the next several weeks, the trio's activities fell into a definite pattern.  
On Friday, somehow, another note would find its way to Arnold. And Brainy could be creative about getting him the message.  
  
............................................................................  
  
A typical Friday night. Another ball game in the books, Arnold and his best friend are engaging in their usual Friday night activity: checkers before turning in.  
  
WHAP!  
"Did you just hear something?"  
"Nope."  
WHAP!"  
"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't hear that."  
Arnold rises from the fold-out couch where the checkerboard sets and walks toward the window where he keeps his bonsai. Seconds later, he's seconded by his best friend.  
"What did it sound like, Arnold?"  
"You heard it."  
"Like someone was throwing rocks at the window?"  
"I'd say it was more like dropping rocks."  
"How can you tell the difference between the sound of a rock being thrown and a rock being dropped?"  
"You mean you can't?"  
"Sound never was a field I studied very much. My man Fuzzy Slippers says--"  
WHAP!  
"There! You heard it that time, right?"  
"I heard it last time, probably the first time too."  
"So why'd you pretend not to?"  
"Here we are." Gerald changed the subject as they reached the window.  
  
Arnold gazed through the glass into the darkness outside, trying to see something, anything.  
"Whoever it is, is out there, Gerald."  
"So what are you going to do about it?"  
Arnold said nothing; he just pondered the situation for a few minutes. Then, wordlessly, his arms went out to the window and pulled.  
As soon as the window opened wide enough, the twosome got a shock as something whizzed past them.  
"What was that?!?"  
"Whatever it was, it was quiet. Didn't do any damage either."  
"So we can rule out a sniper? Other than Helga Pataki?"  
Arnold bit his tongue to stop his reply; he couldn't explain it, but the time he was spending with Helga was working on him. The term one might use is that she was growing on him, not that she hadn't been before that summer. Instead of the heated response that was his first instinct, he reverted to one of his trademarks. "Whatever you say, Gerald; whatever you say."  
By now he was scanning his room for anything out of the ordinary. "Wait, that must be it."  
He pointed toward the only thing in the room that hadn't been there before: a paper airplane on the bed.  
"You think?"  
Arnold was now making a beeline for the bed, calling behind him, "Gerald, would you please close the window?"  
"Um, sure." As he closed it, Gerald imitated his friend's action of looking through the window. His gaze then shifted to the skylights.  
"Don't bother, Gerald. Whoever it is, never leaves a trace."  
"Weird."  
Arnold didn't answer.  
"Arnold?"  
"'Chez Paris, and a sophisticated someone.'"  
"That's what it says?"  
"Mm-hmm."  
"Still think they're about Helga Pataki?"  
"Yes."  
"Why? Why would someone want you to keep thinking about her?"  
"I don't know."  
"Man, it's freaky! Every Friday you get another one of these, no warning, no nothing, not a single clue to go on, so we're no closer to figuring it out than we were on the last day of school!"  
"I know."  
"And it's not like we haven't tried. We've examined the paper, the ink, the paste, even dusted for prints, nothing! This person's very cloak and dagger, whoever is doing this to you."  
"I know that too."  
"So who's doing this to you, and what are you supposed to know?"  
"That I don't know."  
By now Arnold was thumbing through a sheaf of "old" correspondence.  
  
Q-U-A-L-X? Who's kidding whom?  
  
Was there an apology after your magic act?  
  
'Bio-Square' wasn't a failure, was it?  
  
How was the float paid for?  
  
The Wittenberg wedding. Was someone practicing their vows?  
  
That Thanksgiving wasn't such a total disaster, was it?  
  
What happened during the flood?  
  
Romeo & Juliet  
  
Now Gerald was doing one of the stereotypical rude things: reading over someone's shoulder. Suddenly, he snatched one of the sheets.  
"Hey!"  
"This one I especially don't understand. No message; just a date."  
  
..............................................................  
  
Back a few weeks. The trio is in one of their meetings. This time Brainy is letting Phoebe compose the message.  
"It is the date on which Helga thought she was about to expire from monkeynucleosis."  
An involuntary giggle escaped from Lila, drawing her accomplices' attention.  
"I'm sorry, it's just that that word sounds ever so silly."  
"Silly or not, it was considered important enough at one time to be mentioned in that book of debunked diseases."  
"It actually said it was debunked, in the book?"  
"On the cover, and several times in that particular article."  
This time, a sigh escaped. And this time, the loss was Brainy's.  
"So she sees clear and abundant proof that the disease is nonexistent, that it has been debunked and disproved, she says so herself a number of times, and still she believes in it. Only Helga."  
"You'd be surprised how we don't see what's right in front of us." Lila mused, her gaze skirting the edges of her male associate.  
"What?"  
"Nothing."  
Momentarily stymied on that end, Brainy turned his attention elsewhere. "So, Phoebe, what happened with that for Arnold to notice her?"  
"I'm not sure."  
"You're not sure? Phoebe, you know how critical every phase of this plan is; I assume you have a bit more to go on than 'I'm not sure'."  
"And you know what they say about people who assume."  
"Point to Heyerdahl; welcome to the game, Phoebe."  
"Lila!"  
"Brainy! or should I say Edward?"  
"SHH! Only in private, PLEASE!"  
"We are in private."  
Now Phoebe found herself suppressing laughter as she watched her associates go each at the other. She found herself admiring what a cute couple they did make. But she knew it had to end. "Ahem."  
Heads turned. "Yes?"  
"Would you like to hear what I have on which to base my suspicions, as you were asking me a minute ago?"  
"Yes."  
"All right. You see, Helga was acting eccentric, even for her. She called a bunch of us up there and gave away all of her stuff; gave me her books. And if my experience was any indication, she was accompanying the bestowals with lines of treacle so cheesy--"  
"Never mind that treacle and cheese aren't anything alike."  
"You're interrupting."  
"Sorry."  
"As I was about to say, hindsight being 20/20 I now have a pretty good idea of what would've happened with regard to Arnold, but at the time I was interested in that book of phony diseases. When I came to the monkeynucleosis entry I put two and two together and headed back for her room. When I burst in Arnold was there, but I wasn't thinking of anything except reassuring Helga. After I left, though, I hung back a bit. Apparently she was about to tell him something when she thought she was going to expire; care to guess what that something was?"  
  
............................................................  
  
As the sessions went on, other sessions went on too, involving the other groups:  
  
"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAH!!"  
"This had better work, Curly, or I'm going to pound you!"  
"Willikers, Harold, I reckon it's gonna work."  
"FREE THE ANIMALS!!!"  
"Ah, stop it! Curlyyyyyyyy..."  
  
"Try to keep up, you two."  
"Coming Rhonda."  
"Nadine, see what's the holdup with Sid."  
.................................  
"Sid?"  
"Hmm?"  
"What's the holdup?"  
"Nothing."  
"If you stare at that recruitment poster any harder..."  
"Just wondering how I'd look in a Navy uniform."  
"Handsome. Now come on, before Rhonda blows it."  
"As if that were anything new."  
"What?"  
"Nothing."  
  
"I really don't know about this, Sheena."  
"It's all right, Eugene. Don't worry; I'll be, um, we'll be there for you."  
"Right. What she said."  
  
............................................................................ ......  
  
And things were progressing with the group of Arnold and Helga and Gerald as well.  
  
"I gotta hit the office, you two."  
"Heh, you're hangin' around here too much, Hair Boy; you're starting to talk like Phil."  
"You know, she's right?"  
"Wait, why do you get to call him Phil; he puts up a fuss whenever I do."  
"'Cause Phil likes me."  
"Aw, man!"  
"Oh, Gerald, remember--"  
"I know, if I run into any of the boarders, they can smell fear. You're talking to the epitome of cool, Arnold."  
slam  
"Whadda ya wanna bet he's gone for at least a half hour."  
"It is a ways to the office."  
"I'm countin' on him gettin' cornered."  
"Helga."  
"I'm behaving."  
pause  
"Arnold?"  
A blond head turned. "Yes?"  
"Why have you been doing this, spending all this time with me?"  
"After your birthday, you can ask that?"  
Helga frowned. "It had better not be pity; I hate pity!"  
"It's not pity, Helga."  
"I don't think I could handle being pitied, especially by you."  
"Helga, it's not pity, really."  
"Really?"  
"Really. Why wouldn't I want to hang with you? We're friends, aren't we?"  
"Well, I guess..."  
"So it shouldn't be any surprise that I value the time we have together, Helga. I really like talking with you, finding out more about you. You've..."  
"What?"  
"I've always thought there was something about you, something you wouldn't let anyone see. I've wanted to get to know that person, and I'm thankful that you're letting me get that chance."  
Helga had to turn away. "Arnold, I..."  
They were saved by the bell, so to speak, as Gerald returned.  
"His coolness has returned."  
"So soon?"  
"What, did Phil forget to change the roll or something?"  
"Very funny, Helga. No, I just got done fast. It's a guy thing."  
Grumbling, Helga excused herself for her turn.  
"You wanna bet she takes at least half an hour?"  
"Gerald!"  
"Okkay, so you don't. So, anything happen?"  
  
............................................................................ .  
  
Meanwhile, the usual things were going on with the Triumphant Trio. At their meetings, they'd discuss things about the project, and things not necessarily related to same, like what kind of music to listen to while planning. One day...  
"All right, ladies." Brainy started as he walked to a blackboard brought in to his planning room for the occasion. "Let's look at this mathematically."  
As he talked he diagrammed his monologue on the blackboard like it was some higher math problem, with fractals and cosecants and such.  
"Lila, you prefer country. Phoebe, you prefer J-Pop. And I, well, my tastes are just weird. Now, the one musical style equidistant from all three of them is, art rock."  
"Art rock?" Lila asked.  
"Yes. It has everything. It's esoteric, populist, bombastic, pretentious, it's based on classical which according to the experts is the preferred music for learning by..."  
"Wait." Phoebe had to ask. "You figured this out through math?"  
"Music is very mathematical." Lila put in.  
Phoebe had no answer.  
  
So, art rock it was. After a bit of experimenting the three settled on Emerson Lake & Palmer. And yes, part of the reason was that the two threesomes had the same initials, ELP. In no time at all they'd even decided on a signal for emergency meetings: whistling the first six notes of "Pictures at an Exhibition".  
  
............................................................................  
  
Turning from music to sports, have I mentioned the Friday ball games? It seems the blond couple had developed a rapport there.  
  
It's a typical Friday evening. This time it's Wolfgang's Wolves vs. Helga's Angels.  
It's the top of the inning. Full count on Edmund, at the plate for the Wolves with Wolfgang on second. One out.  
Harold on the mound for the Angels, about to pitch to Edmund. Wolfgang takes the opportunity to try to steal third. Arnold at shortstop notices immediately.  
"Harold!"  
Harold turns on a quarter --- inflation, as well as his bulk --- and throws to Arnold. Got him! Wolfgang is now trapped in a rundown. You would have to be Jackie Robinson to get out of this situation, and Wolfgang is no Jackie Robinson.  
"Out!"  
Wolfgang, on the ground, short of second, looks up at a triumphant Arnold. The blond hero looks down on him, half-smiling, eyes half-lidded, eyebrows waggling, the face that says 'I've beaten you and we both know it.'  
At the plate, Edmund looks on in wonder.  
"Huh. Who would've thought a football-head would have such a head for baseball?"  
Behind the catchers mask, Helga smiles. Then she decides to rattle her opponent.  
"He's good at football too. Or have you forgotten the Mudbowl?"  
"What?" Edmund turns his head, just in time for Harold's pitch.  
"Strike three! You're out." the Jolly Olly man calls, doing his usual sadistic job at umpire.  
Which is the final out for the Wolves. As the teams change out for the Angels' batting order, no one notices a wink passing between Arnold and Helga.  
"Nice play, football-head."  
"Thanks."  
  
............................................................................ .......  
  
And now, for another look in on the trio.  
  
POW!  
WHAM!  
Brainy hadn't hit the floor before the other two ran to him, Lila ridden with guilt.  
"Are you all right, Brainy?"  
He just smiled. "I've felt worse, much worse."  
"I'm ever so sorry about that--"  
Brainy held up his hand to silence her. "No need to apologize; I did practically order you to hit me. And it was a breeze compared to what I've felt from Ol' Betsy."  
"Still--"  
"Lila, really, it's all right." Brainy paused long enough to get to his feet, then continued. "In fact it's more than all right; it's necessary. As I've explained, Olga has to be toughened up to prepare her for the confrontation. And you have to be toughened up so you'll be able to toughen her up." His eyes narrowed at her. "And if you're going to get Olga ready to face her father, you'll have to do better than that."  
Lila's frustration was showing. "But I still don't see how it would accomplish anything for me to strike her."  
"Wait," Phoebe interrupted, "am I to understand Olga is to be trained to use physical force on her father when the time comes?"  
"No no, that's not what I mean at all." Brainy started.  
He then went silent; the girls could see the gears turning in his mind. Finally...  
"I think we'll need to sit down for this." He then walked toward a bare place in the floor of the Heyerdahl fencing room.  
Turning, he addressed his associates. "Ladies?"  
Without a word, Lila and Phoebe joined Brainy. He then sat on the floor, cross-legged. They did likewise; by now they were used to his leadership and went along without question, most of the time.  
  
Wordlessly, they watched, and waited for him to begin. His eyes were closed, giving the impression of prayer, or meditation; deep breaths and the position of his hands, at rest on his knees, indicated the latter, like some kind of a guru or yogi. After several deep cleansing breaths, the eyes opened, and he began.  
"Let me try, if I can, to explain the sisters Pataki.  
"Helga and Olga, you see, are flip sides of the same coin. They're from the same gene pool, only one used sun-block and the other didn't." Immediately, his eyes closed as the fingers of one hand flew up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Man, that analogy sucked."  
The girls said nothing as Brainy strove to re-collect his thoughts.  
"All right, look at things this way. All of her young life, Helga has been exposed to, well, you know to what she's been exposed."  
Phoebe nodded in agreement.  
"And Olga had been exposed to the same stuff. The difference has been in how they have dealt with it.  
"Helga has been under enormous pressure. She has dealt with it by choosing to defy it. And over the years she has built strong, tough walls to keep the pressures out. Problem is they keep other things out too, like emotions. But that's to be expected given how emotionally controlled Patakis are expected to be.  
"Olga, on the other hand, has chosen the other path, the path called milksop. She has completely caved in to whatever was placed on her, done everything expected and more to try to win the love and regard of those she loves and regards the most. And it's worked. Her parents dote on her, she's even exempted from the emotional control Patakis are supposed to have. The cost, as we have seen, is her personality, her individuality."  
"Interesting, and true," Phoebe mused, "but what does it have to do with hitting?"  
Brainy looked her in the eyes. "How many times have you seen Helga cry?"  
She had to think about that one, long and hard. "Gee I, I don't know. I suppose I could count the number of times on one hand."  
"Any time in particular?" Brainy led, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her.  
Phoebe devoted the proverbial great deal of thought to the question, then frowned as the full implication of Brainy's leading finally hit home. "You mean that time we were mean to Lila."  
"Yes."  
Phoebe's features hardened; she really didn't want to go there. "I really don't want to do this."  
"I realize that, but this is necessary, a means to an end."  
Of course, Lila was very interested in this. "Excuse me? I think I have some idea of what you two are talking about, but it would be oh so nice if you would share it with me, seeing that it seems to concern me, and that I'm here listening to it anyway."  
Phoebe was fixed in Brainy's sights. "Why don't you tell her, Phoebe? You were there."  
  
It took a great deal of prying, with some details having to be filled in by replaying the tape of Helga from her birthday, but eventually the whole story was told: the new girl, the jealousy, the pranks, the desolation, and finally, the contrition. Of course Lila already knew what had happened back then, but not quite all of Helga and the others' p.o.v. And the memories recalled brought with them the feelings all of the people involved had experienced at the time.  
By the time it was over, Phoebe and Lila were crying in each other's arms. If nothing else, this project would at least have the effect of bringing the two of them together.  
Brainy looked on, silently weeping himself at the sad recollections. He dabbed his eyes while waiting for a break in the waterlogged reverie, passing around yet another package of tissues. When the noise died down, he finally addressed the assembly.  
"You see, that was the only time that Helga really lost control of herself. The only time Phoebe here had to strike her, to snap her out of it, to bring her to her senses.  
"Helga doesn't break down often because she's built emotional walls so massive, so solid, so impregnable that there's only a break once in a blue moon. Or at least one she can't handle; normally she's able to slap herself, mostly when she's around Arnold. But Olga hasn't built those walls; she hasn't had to. So far she's been able to get by on her talents and her accomplishments --- intellectual, social, charitable, et cetera.  
"But up to recently she's never dealt with confrontation. Were she to try to face Big Bob, not even two months ago, she would've crumbled like a soggy fish stick.  
"That situation has changed recently, though. We've been working on her, right, Lila?"  
Lila was caught by surprise at the sudden directing of a question to her. "Um, yes, yes we have."  
Brainy smiled. "You were unprepared. We'll have to work on that too."  
  
He then turned to Phoebe. "But she's right; we have been trying to toughen Olga, get her in shape for when it happens. And it's been bearing fruit. Helga has noticed, right?"  
Now Phoebe had been caught unprepared. "Well, yes, Helga has noticed changes in her sister."  
"Like?"  
"Um, Olga has been taking a stand lately, chiefly on behalf of Helga. Every time Helga has been referred to by her --- Olga's --- name, or as 'the girl', Olga has been quick to correct him. And that's not the full extent to which she comes to her defense. And she hasn't called her 'baby sister' since her birthday."  
"Helga could write that off as Olga's acknowledgment that she's not a baby anymore now that she's thirteen."  
"True. But then there's the letter."  
"Letter?"  
"Last month. Helga received a letter from Olga..."  
  
Secondary flashback, Phoebe via Helga, or is it Helga via Phoebe?  
  
The previous month. Olga is in her room, grooming in front of her vanity, when the door bursts open.  
"All right Olga, what's the meaning of this?"  
"Hello to you too, Helga."  
"Cut to the chase; what are you up to?"  
"You'll have to be more specific."  
"This." Helga holds out the letter from her sister, who looks at it.  
"I think it's self-explanatory."  
"I don't buy it; you can't tell me you're going to stand by what you've written without some ulterior motive. What's your angle?"  
"There's no angle, Helga." Olga shakes her head as she speaks, then grabs her head with one hand, closing her eyes.  
"Something wrong?"  
"I just had this feeling of deja vu. mmph." Olga shakes her head to clear it. She then puts down the toiletries or whatever that she was using at the time, and concentrates on an effort to convince her sister of good, or at least dissuade her from thinking bad.  
"Helga, I've recently come to realize just how terrible a sister I have been to you. There's been so much bad stuff laid on you over the years, and I can't deny that I've done my part to add to it. I don't know what I can ever do to make it up to you, but I will try.  
"Only thing is, you won't notice. I've noticed that every time I've tried to get closer to you in the past I've only succeeded in pushing you further away, so this time I won't try. I won't try to reach out to you, Helga; I'm afraid it'll just backfire again.  
"But if you ever want to talk to me, about anything, I will make time for you no matter what I'm doing. You're my sister, Helga, and it's high time I start treating you like one.  
"And don't worry; I won't tell anyone else --- like the others in your class for instance --- what you tell me. And I won't try to hug you either."  
Olga then turns back to the vanity, indicating the conversation's end. Stupefied, Helga stands there for a couple of minutes, then slowly turns and walks away, closing the door behind her.  
  
...end of flashback.  
  
"And that's how it happened. Come to think of it, Helga has mentioned that even Olga's voice has changed. A little."  
As Phoebe finished her story, Lila was taking it in, as was Brainy, in spades.  
"Very interesting. So already we're doing some good, just not good enough, and not enough good. We'll have to step this up."  
"Are we back to the hitting?" Phoebe asked.  
"Preferably no. But that has to be an option; it's like in martial arts."  
"The reason for knowing such would be to never have to use it?"  
"Exactly. Phoebe, you only had to strike Helga that one time. She was fortunate that you were there to slap some sense into her. But Olga won't have that luxury; she'll be facing you-know-what all alone, with no one to stand by her. She must be prepared," he continued, as his gaze swung around toward Lila, "when she goes in there on that day, she must be tough enough."  
There was more to be said, or asked. They all felt it. As if to forestall any further questioning, Brainy got back to business. He stood and, holding out one hand each to the others, helped them up.  
"Now let's get back to work, ladies. And Lila, see if you can pack more punch into that punch this time. I thought being raised on a farm you'd turn out to be strong; didn't you stop that horse by yourself?"  
Lila cocked an eyebrow. "Brainy, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying this."  
"So who says you know better?"  
It took a minute for the full extent of his revelation to sink in, but when it did, the shock was palpable. Eyebrows flew up and mouths gaped. Brainy looked a bit sheepish.  
"I told you I was a masochist."  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
So the training continued. But did it do any good? Let's see how Olga is affected.  
  
SLAP  
"GASP!"  
Before Olga could further react to that slap in the face Lila, who had inflicted it, had a hold of her upper arms.  
"I'm ever so sorry that I had to do that, Olga. You were going into hysterics."  
"gasp, sob, Lila..."  
"Olga, this is not the time for hurt feelings. I feel ever so terrible that I did that, but we can't afford to feel bad right now. We have to work on this."  
"sob, whine "  
"Olga, listen to me! That's the first time I've had to slap you and I would like ever-so-much for it to be the last. You're oh-so-fortunate that I was here to do that, just like Helga was ever-so-fortunate the one time she got hysterical that Phoebe was there to slap her, snapping her out of it. But when you have to confront your parents you won't have that luxury. No one will be there to snap you out of it. You will have to face them on your own, and you will have to be strong. If you were to face them the way you are right now, you would go to pieces and then you wouldn't be any good to Helga."  
Her sister's name finally brought Olga out of her self-pity funk. She still sniffled a bit. Lila handed her a package of tissues she had by now gotten in the habit of carrying with her, and in due time Olga was almost ready for action. Almost.  
"What, what did you say? Helga went through that once?"  
"Um, yes."  
"How did you find out?"  
"It happened in front of my apartment."  
"Where you live now?"  
"No, the tenement building, where we lived before Daddy got that job with Mitchell. I hadn't been here too long, and..."  
"Oh."  
  
They were in the production room of the beeper emporium, where the beeper commercials were put together.  
Turning over in her mind the conversation she'd just had with Lila, Olga stood from the chair where she was seated. She slowly stepped toward the window looking out on the stage room.  
She stood there as minute turned to minute, seeming to bask in the light that was allowed into the dark production room through the windows. Then, she reached into a front pocket of her vest and pulled out a certain picture.  
It was Helga, the most recent picture of her. Which ordinarily would be no indication of how old it was, but it just so happened that one of the first things the family had done that summer was have a family portrait made at Boland Hills. Helga had almost been overlooked, which was no surprise.  
She ran a finger around on the wallet sized, thoroughly covering the representation of the one she had until recently thought of as her baby sister, who was not a baby and had not been for well over a decade.  
As Olga turned over in her mind first one thing, then another, she reminded herself that --- other than around Arnold --- she had never seen her sister smile, had no proof that Helga had ever smiled, ever. Not once.  
Well, there was that one time she'd changed a grade, sending Olga to her bed for a while. After Helga had confessed, and Olga covered up her sister's misdeed, there had been a smile. Then Olga had suggested they spend the next day together. Helga had agreed.  
Olga had thought that they had reached an understanding after that, that they had gotten closer.  
What had gone wrong?  
  
As these thoughts and countless others teemed through her mind, Olga kept fingering Helga's picture, as if in an effort to get close to her sister. Eyes closed, head bobbing to & fro, she fell prey to the sniffles & shakes.  
Of course this did not go unnoticed by Lila, who had not taken her eyes off of Olga the entire time.  
"Olga?"  
"SNIFFLE! uh, pant pant , excuse me." She took a few more seconds to compose herself, then turned to face her 'little sis'.  
"You're right, Lila. You're ever so right. If I'm going to be any good to Helga I'll have to be strong, stronger than I am now. You're strong; I remember how you stopped that horse. Will you help me?"  
Lila smiled, her head shaking in incredulity. "Of course I'll help; I am ever so certain that that's what I've been trying to do."  
Olga nodded, her features hardening into determination. "Then let's get to it."  
  
............................................................................ ........  
  
Another Sunday afternoon session, this one at the Elkins mansion on Elk Island.  
  
"I've been thinking, you two..."  
"Good, in your case thinking is not a dangerous thing."  
"Seriously, Brainy. And Lila. I have something at home we could add to this tape, which could punch up things a bit more."  
"What is it?" Lila asked.  
"Remember the Parents Day competition?"  
"I do." said Brainy. "I also remember who won, who was it again, some family with a Norwegian name?"  
Phoebe blushed a bit. "All right, so we won. But we also got some choice footage of Big Bob Pataki in all his gory."  
Lila was puzzled. "Don't you mean 'glory'?"  
Phoebe grimaced. "Not when I'm talking about him."  
By now Brainy was thinking a couple of steps ahead, again. "Phoebe, have you touched that Parents Day tape lately?"  
"Not lately."  
"Good, don't. That way in case Helga asks, you can honestly say it didn't come from you, you can even show her your tape still in its place with the dust still on it."  
"Let me guess, you have a copy too."  
"What can I say, my family likes to tape things in which we're involved."  
  
............................................................................ ..................  
  
"Lila?"  
"I'm here, Brainy."  
"All secure on your end?"  
"Arnold and Helga should come along any second; we'll pick them up when they do."  
"Olga?"  
"Had to go to the office."  
"chuckles You ever hang around the boarding house? That's what Arnold's grandpa calls it."  
"more chuckles I have been there a couple of times. Remember when he had that parrot?"  
"Focus, Lila."  
"Right, focusing."  
"We're hanging around Phoebe too much."  
"That's possible. What about you, how are things there?"  
"Following Phoebe as I speak, at a distance of course. And trying to convince myself that I'm not a peeping Tom. I'm feeling a bit guilty, this stuff should be private. At least I'm not recording it."  
"You'll just have to convince yourself a bit more, won't you?"  
"Why not; what's a little more angst."  
"How are you, emotionally?"  
"Not an issue."  
"Not an issue, my eye."  
"It doesn't matter; I'll have time to deal with it later. Is that walkie-talkie still attached to the camera?"  
"Yes."  
"Olga still doesn't suspect."  
"You ever hear of tunnel vision?"  
"Enough said."  
"Lila!"  
"Speaking of,"  
"I need to go now."  
"I know, I overheard. Give Olga my regards."  
"Yeah, right."  
  
............................................................................ ........  
  
It's a typical sunny summer Friday afternoon. All the usual things are in the right place, proportion and style --- sun shining and all that.  
On such a day, one Gerald Martin Johanssen just happened to be in the park. Well, technically it was a 'just happened' situation, but the reality is anything but.  
For the past several weeks he too had fallen into a pattern. It had started as hanging out with his best friend Arnold, he of the mysterious last name. But the week after said best friend's birthday, that had changed.  
That week, a certain someone had accidentally encountered them and sent Arnold off on some errand. It was a certain 'oh-so-special someone', as Lila would say. Well, you never know, she might turn out to be that oh- so-special someone, who knew, really?  
All he knew was that in a couple of weeks he was going to the park on Fridays with the stated intent of meeting him, but the hope of meeting her. And she had yet to disappoint.  
It was uncanny, really. If he didn't know better he might think she was taking the initiative in, well, it couldn't really be called dating but darned if he knew what it could be called. But why wouldn't she take the initiative? It's not like either of them wasn't liberated enough to not cling to the old gender roles; she was as able to do such a thing as he. And it's not like she wouldn't have picked up a thing or two in the assertiveness department from her best friend, ugh. That week she was hall monitor alone...  
No, it was, um, he couldn't explain. But he couldn't shake this feeling that she wouldn't be apt to jump the gun in this manner. There was something about her that told him she wouldn't. She was, she was...  
"Hello, Gerald."  
She was here. As he turned to look at her, his mouth did the classic turning up at the corners, and his naturally dark complexion lightened a couple of shades. "Hey, Phoebe."  
  
She smiled. "What has you so happy?"  
"What, I can't be glad to see you?"  
She blushed, a little. "Flattering, and something I wouldn't mind. But why do I get the feeling that this week there's a little something in addition to that?"  
"All right, you charmed it out of me. My freedom has increased."  
"It has?"  
"Yeah! You could probably calculate how much to the exact decimal point. Jamie O. finally decided what college he's going to this fall."  
"Oh? Which college?"  
"Washington. He'll be there on a combined football and wrestling scholarship, which will pretty much take care of his tuition."  
"That's wonderful for your brother, but how does that affect you right now?"  
"It means he's practically out of the house. They'll have the signing at Hillwood High next week, and then he's practically gone."  
"Not necessarily; Seattle is quite close, you know."  
"It's far enough that he'll be living there instead of here. He's going to be busy from here on out, picking out a dorm room, meeting with the teachers and coaches, getting settled in; but the important thing is he's out of here! My brother has finally officially gone from being family to being a relative."  
That perplexed Phoebe. "Pardon? I don't see the distinction."  
"Well you see, when a family member finally moves out of the house, they become a relative. Still family, but the ties have been cut. The distinction is now relative. When you're family, they have to put up with you indefinitely; when you're a relative it's like Franklin said: like fish, you start to stink after three days. No longer will I have to share a house with him for extended periods of time."  
"One day you will learn to appreciate your brother."  
"Maybe I will, one day. But not today."  
  
By now the two of them were walking.  
"So where are we going this time?"  
"How's Geno's sound?"  
"Must you always think of food when we're together?"  
"Hey, I feel like celebrating. Besides, you know we'll be hungry when we get there."  
"True."  
"It's like that story of the elephant graveyard."  
"I don't believe I've heard that one."  
"You're kidding! You mean to stand there and say you've never heard the story of the elephant graveyard?"  
"Yes, I do mean to stand here and say exactly that. Would you please fill me in?"  
"I don't know. This might come under the category of urban legend--"  
"Somehow I've never thought of elephants as urban, and I resist the urge to make political hay out of that statement."  
That last bit threw him somewhat. Seconds later, he recovered. "Um, whatever. It's still a story that requires a certain--"  
"Of course, Sid's not here to set you up. Could I try?"  
"You're serious."  
"How hard can it be?"  
"sigh All right, you want to hear it so bad... Phoebe, lead me in babe."  
"Thank you. ahem The legend of the elephant graveyard has been passed down from generation to generation, and our own Gerald is the keeper of the tale. Take it, Gerald."  
"Thank you Phoebe." Gerald smiled as he prepared for another oratorical episode.  
  
Fortuitously, they weren't quite out of the park yet; they just happened to be passing the last park bench. Gerald stopped in front of it and, dramatically putting one foot on the seat of said bench, faced Phoebe and launched.  
  
"For some two hundred years explorers have tried to solve the mysteries of the continent of Africa. Mungo Park. John Speke. Richard Burton. Livingstone AND Stanley. These people have sought different things --- from colonization to exploitation to fame & fortune to missionary work to just wanting to know what's there --- but there has been one objective on ALL of their lists: to locate the elephant graveyard. And all of their efforts in that case have been in vain.  
"But does the graveyard even exist? No one knows, or those who do aren't saying. But still, the story is told, that when an elephant's time draws near, he or she knows. And when he or she knows the time is near, the elephant leaves the herd, and sets out on that one-way trip to elephant eternity.  
"With no regard for anything, or anyone, but the trip and destination; the elephant walks, and walks, and then walks some more. Through jungles, across rivers, over or around mountains, maybe across a little patch of desert depending on where exactly we're talking.  
"Finally, the African behemoth reaches its destination, its rendezvous with its own destiny: the fabled cemetery to which all of its kind must one day go. Once there, the elephant then keels over, and takes its rest from which it will not be awakened; its journey complete, as well as its life.  
"Next stop: pachyderm paradise.  
"The end."  
  
Although the audience was small, person for person, Gerald had never received so enthusiastic a response to one of his tales.  
Phoebe applauded until the soreness in her hands told her to stop, then spoke.  
"Yet another masterful job of storytelling, Gerald."  
"Thank you."  
"But what does it have to do with the two of us getting hungry on our way to Geno's?"  
"The trip accomplishes the purpose for the destination. In the elephant's case, it's the trip that kills it."  
Phoebe, caught by surprise, was hard put to it not to choke on her laughter. "Oh, Gerald."  
They walked on in silence for a while, then Gerald noticed the look on Phoebe's face, the look she had when she was thinking.  
"What?"  
"I was thinking about that story."  
"What about it?"  
"I have heard of such places, or the possibility thereof. Universal graveyards; they're better than gold mines to paleontologists. So many questions would be answered. And they actually exist. They're called lagerstatten."  
"You're kidding."  
"Not at all. One example is the LaBrea tar pits in Los Angeles."  
"Now that you mention it... laughs "  
"What?"  
"Those things are supposed to trap those animals of limited intelligence. Considering it's in L.A., you'd think half of Hollywood would've gotten sucked under by now."  
"That's why they have barricades between the people and the pits."  
"Of course."  
  
...and so it went. On the other side of the park, Arnold & Helga were also having yet another non-date. So they continued, the four of them, along with their three shadows.  
  
...........................................................................  
  
Journal entry, Saturday.  
Another week has passed. Another week closer to happiness for H., and release for me. I think I'm getting over her.  
Actually, and it scares me to admit this, I might be falling for someone else. It's L.  
I can admit this on here --- more proof it seems that Dr. B. was right about journaling --- but I don't dare say anything about it elsewhere, and telling anyone else about it --- except perhaps Dr. B. --- is out of the question.  
Say that I were to act on what I feel. And say that she were to respond --- and much as it shocks me, I find that such a concept is not out of the realm of possibility. What then? Let's face it: she is pretty and popular and perfect and all of that. Conversely, I am Brainy, one of the geeks, one of the twisted little freaks, as H. would say. What future could there possibly be for such a couple?  
By now, I have a reputation, an image. 'So what?', I'd be the first to tell anyone who would listen; go against your image if you feel like it, and to you-know-what with what anyone else thinks. Does that apply in my case? What would happen if I were to try to act like someone who's not a geek, if I were to try to remake my image? Challenge everyone's image of me? Would that be allowed? Or would I be slapped down, shoved around, trampled underfoot by everyone? Maybe I'm just so comfortable in the background I'm afraid to step out of the shadows. I just don't know.  
Anyway, I couldn't even think of such a thing now, not at this time. Not at this juncture, wouldn't be prudent, as someone said. Say I were to even kiss her right now; could either of us then concentrate on what we should be doing, on reconciling H. with her family, getting her together with A? Could I afford to take such a chance? Should I? Should I hazard H's future on such? And A's? And who knows who else?  
We're playing with people's lives here, there's no getting around that. And I have to play to win. Sacrifices have to be made. If the sacrifices are mine, I can live with that; it was my idea. The needs of the many and all that.  
Be right back; I need to get ready to turn in.  
  
Brainy wheeled himself back a bit from the computer at which he'd been typing, after saving his journal entry thus far of course. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then clasped his hands in front of him with a stretch and an even bigger breath, a yawn.  
He then rose from his seat, and did his usual bedtime routine, with a little difference. Sometimes he would put on a little music.  
"Let's see, what am I in the mood for, hmm. Ah, country. And I know just the song."  
He punched the appropriate buttons on his alarm clock radio, then headed for the phone.  
"Hello, this is Nashville Ned, who do we have on this end?"  
"Ned Jr."  
"Oh, is that my trainee from Career Day?"  
"That's me."  
"Well, how you doing, little buddy?"  
"Getting ready to turn in."  
"Turn into what?"  
"A zombie."  
"Ah. Been there, more times than the days of your life."  
"I can believe that."  
"So what would you like to hear, kid?"  
"'Unanswered Prayers'."  
"You got it. What's your favorite country station?"  
"K-DUDE."  
"All right."  
The line was silent for a bit, then Brainy heard Ned's voice again, this time his normal, more highly-pitched voice.  
"Brainy, you still there?"  
"Yes sir."  
"You know how this works, that won't play for a while yet."  
"I should be ready for bed by then."  
"Ah, bed. Now that's something I haven't seen in a while."  
"Funny."  
"Is it? I'm not laughing. I'd like to ask you something, Brainy. Don't worry, we stopped taping right after you said the station's name."  
"Thanks. I'm listening."  
"You given any thought to this as a career? You were quite good on the job that day, really earned that 'A'."  
"Thanks. I've thought about it, but I just don't have the voice for radio."  
"Have you tried putting on a voice like I showed you, like I do?"  
"Yeah. I don't know, maybe I need more practice. But you've taught me a lot, and I'll be using the stuff I learned from you, probably the rest of my life."  
"Well, that's the idea of Career Day in the first place. It's not so we can find our successors, although in some cases that happens."  
"I know."  
"Um, do you know of anyone who might be interested in this line of work?"  
"Hmm. Well, there's Marcy Kornblum."  
"Marcy Kornblum?"  
"Yeah. She's usually the narrator for school plays when there's a need of one. Good voice, comfortable in front of an audience."  
"Hold on, how do you spell that?"  
"K-O-R-N-B-L-U-M."  
"Got it. I'll look into that. Thanks for the heads-up, Brainy."  
"You're welcome."  
"And call in anytime. My line is always open when you're on the other end."  
"That's nice to know. Thank you very much."  
"You're welcome... Oop, the song's ending, gotta get back on the job."  
"And I need to get ready for--"  
"Don't say it, I'm having enough trouble staying awake as it is."  
"All right. Talk to you again, Ned."  
"Any time, Brainy."  
click  
  
Change clothes. Brush your teeth. Get the bed ready. Turn off the light. And anything else your parents have ever told you to do when night falls. All of the above were soon accomplished; nothing remained but to finish the journal entry and shut down the computer; the radio would shut itself off in a few. So Brainy sat down to do the former.  
  
I'm back.  
Huh, to look at what I'm typing you'd think I was in a chat room.  
Anyway, I was writing about making sacrifices; I'm not so sure it would be such a sacrifice.  
I mean, what would I be sacrificing? A future I might not have? What would there be here for me? People know me by an alias, and that's because my real name is mud around here. It's about time I take a long hard look at my life, and make some decisions about my future.  
But not tonight. Tomorrow's Sunday, and I need to be at my best for the group meeting. So good night.  
Sincerely yours, E.M.E.V.  
  
File Save  
File Exit Works  
Start Shut Down  
What do you want the computer to do?  
Shut down  
Megahard Doors 98 Doors is shutting down  
It is now safe to turn off your computer  
click  
  
As Brainy headed to the sack, he could hear his request on the radio.  
  
She was the one I'd wanted for all times  
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine  
And if he'd only grant me this wish I wished back then  
I'd never ask for anything again  
  
sigh , Well, at least it has a happy ending. Who knows, sometimes life imitates art, maybe we all can have a happy ending.  
One can hope.  
Good night.  
  
There it is, please read and review, y'all. I keep trying to outdo myself, and hopefully I keep succeeding. As always, I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm Nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all around. 


	21. Interlude

First, I must apologize for having taken so long. I can't explain; it was like nothing came for like one & a half month. I dunno. Anyway, I was determined to get this in before Halloween, so here it is. I also must apologize in advance for anyone I offend. I have been a regular in the Hey Arnold! chatroom long enough to know that there are three issues you would do well not to bring up: politics, religion, and Lila. So of course, I had to go and stick all three of them in here. For that matter, I've thrown in lots of other stuff --- metaphysics, existentialism, speculation on the human condition, you name it.   
Like I said, I have Lila in here; but with what I've already written what do you expect? One might get the idea I'm a Lila fangirl. I've considered that, and concluded that I am not. I just feel sorry for her, especially with all the hate she's been getting. Lila haters, you might want to skip this chapter. If you do decide to read this, and come away still hating Lila, I worry about you. Mondo Brainy-Lila stuff; y'all have been warned.   
  
And now for the reviews:   
Miss Matched, thanks. I accept the adulation, whether I think I deserve it or not ;) Ayup, a Brainy fangirl. Oh, that song! I'm not really into it, although I can't say I've been completely unaffected. Believe me, I put up more as soon as I can get it up. And I do appreciate the Kudos bar; it's been so long since I've had one.   
Thank you, J.T. I'm glad that you like this so much and I continue to be amazed at the compliments that come in, to which I will your 'masterpiece' line. I will continue to take time to respond to the reviewers; I figure it's only fair since they took the time to review. Besides, like you said it's part of why y'all continue to review and I'm not about to mess with a good thing. You say you're getting antsy for the end? That you're already missing it? Well, cool your jets; this fic ain't endin' until Arnold & Helga are a couple and Brainy's feelings have been resolved, and that's not happenin' any time soon, although it will happen and I'm y'all think the journey will be worth it.   
TADAH, thanks. You rock too, I'm glad you love it, and I will keep on.   
Helga243, wonderful as always, you're welcome.   
Ami, glad posted again, afraid stopped writing, break between angst & drama, what have cooking in next chapter, tissues ready.   
Mandy, another chapter of masterpiece, will be waiting.   
brianaluvsfutballhead, thanks, & you're welcome. I wish it didn't take as long as it did to make this as close to perfect as I can get it, and even then I notice mistakes like grammar & such. The notes, the meetings, the elephant graveyard, all things contribute to the whole did that make any sense? You figured you-know-what out. And there has to be a reason he's known as Brainy. Like I said, thanks, & I'll take all the luck I can get it whether I need it or not.   
Starry Nights, think nothing of it. So you didn't review one chapter of this; when I think of all the fics I've yet to review, *shudder* . I agree with you about Brainy, and he will find happiness before all I say & do is said & done. Thank you.   
Paradox, thanks. You called it, Olga will have to harden herself, and with a little help from Lila, she will. The ELP connection I came up with when I noticed their initials being the same; it will come into play later in one of those ways that cause me to think this CAN'T be coincidence. You'll see. You've picked up on many things I wanted someone to notice; I'm glad someone did. And if I was the first to do that, I'm honored; the time had come imo. And don't we all have those feelings of inadequacy when you get down to it? It's those who don't have them of which we need to beware.   
Thank you WAYAMY27NARF (hmm, by any chance could this be a fellow Pinky & the Brain fan?). I update this thing as often as rl will let me, we know how that goes, right? One of my best on-line friends is from West Virginia. I never thought of myself as a mind-reader, but like I said I don't believe in coincidence. Maybe? I dunno.   
Thanks, humble. I try to make it better all the time. I added Ned because in case anyone's noticed Brainy was paired with him on Career Day. Although I've also noticed CB voices both chars. Funny how that works out, as Bullwinkle used to say. Hah, a Data ref from ST:TNG; I like. I won't make Lila evil. As to Wolfgang, I'll try to come up with something for him to do but I dunno. As to the other groups, we'll know when they get back to school, then there will be other things for which to use the other kids. I'm planning on getting the others actively involved & if it's like how I'm seeing it in my mind it'll be good, I hope. Ditto for coming together in the end.   
Thank you Chachi. I've lots more in store.   
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks, I do value your reviews. I can't say that Brainy is very close to happiness, but when it happens --- and it will happen --- it will be worth it. We can see ourselves in the insecurities of others, can't we? I can try to see your point about Helga. As to asking your advice, don't think I won't, but things are going to get dicey and I can't guarantee that it won't get to you personally. I'll think about it, and I'll try to, well, whatever it is I'll try to do I'll try to do it. Did that make any sense? I just hope you won't take it personally & I'll try to explain in the chat or on IM.   
Thank you, selement. That is a good song, one of my favorite songs by Garth. No, Lila won't get in the habit of hitting Olga, which is not to say someone won't hit someone. You'll see, I think. Brainy's idea is to wait until after the project; actually, according to Chapter 6, he'll want to wait until after they get Arnold & Helga together.   
Thanks, zali. 'kilig', is it? Hmm, it means 'to shudder, to shiver, to chill'; I guess I can figure out the meaning. I'm glad my stories excite you. Admittedly, though, my narrations are not my best part; I've been trying to work on it and maybe it's better here I dunno. No prob; I had problems in English too. Would you believe I had a mental block with creative writing for years? Go fig. And I'm definitely a guy; I just defy all stereotypes, including those about male sensitivity, or the lack thereof. I look forward to reading your stories, should you ever get them up.   
Thank you, Sleather Chonkers. I'd find devine (Andy Devine?) easier to believe than lazy; I'm just lazy. We've seen that Brainy's inclined to sacrifice for her, he loves her that much. You caught it, in fact I try to use whatever suggestions people give me, and I did use some of yours and will try to continue to do the same. Adding Ned was spur of the moment believe it or not; inspiration works that way sometimes I guess. It is interesting, though, that the both of them are voiced by CB. The musical solution was meant to be like that; and I intended it to be a means to work in ELP. We'll be seeing more on that thread as it will be conducive toward working in a key plot point. You'll see in a few chapters. Funny, I thought that Brainy was a handsome young man with glasses and curly light hair; but what do I know about what a handsome man is? Now I think of it you're right about Lila's history with Arnie, and don't think I won't use, and don't think I won't use that. I'm sorry about the confusion with the other students. I really meant to go more into those other projects, but it just never materialized. I am planning on bringing the others more into the plot as summer ends and school begins; I especially have plans for dealing with Harold and with Rhonda. You'll see. I'm glad you liked that line; I've sprinkled such things throughout my writings in hope that someone will appreciate them. And you talk of buying bulk? They should buy stock in Kimerly Clark with how they're going through the tissues, and there's more to come. Might want to keep some on hand yourself.   
Brianna, thanks. I got this done as fast as I could. Really. Sorry.   
Puppiescute, you needn't worry about that, and thank you.   
Thanks, oneblackvoice. In some ways, your review sets the standard for the others, which is in no way disparaging the others who review. In some ways it's the kind of review I'd do. In some ways. I will take your suggestions in mind and work them in if I see an opportunity. As to the Patakis, fasten your seat belt, it's going to be a bumpy ride. But they'll get to the end of it in one piece.   
And thank you, Anoriel / Nory / SummerRose. Hope you like this chapter as much.   
Finally, I would like to acknowledge those who have IMed me, to interview me and otherwise. makeupchick411, australiancat, TiggieBrat03, Kitkatkidd2004, and anyone I might have left out, I thank every one of y'all.   
  
Hey Arnold! is created by, copyright, and / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom. The Corleones were from the book The Godfather by Mario Puzo. The Jedi is copyright George Lucas. Mark Twain, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Clint Black, Eric Idle, Vince Gill, the Doobie Brothers, and Jonathan Swift are copyright to themselves. D'Lectrified is copyright RCA, a unit of General Electric. The Galaxy Song was written by Eric Idle. Monty Python is copyright the British Broadcasting Corporation, I think. And so is The Secret Of Life, I think. Easy to Be Hard was written by McDermott & co. for the tribal love rock musical Hair; this version was done by Three Dog Night on the Dunhill album Suitable For Framing.   
  
Sunday. The day after the journal entry Brainy made while calling in a request to Nashville Ned. 10 a.m. The dock overlooking the Skukumchuk River with a view of Elk Island.   
At such a time, and in such a place, Lila is, having been dropped off by her father after church; they'd gotten into the habit of going to the morning service that summer so she'd have more time for the project. She is alone, which is surprising; usually, she and Phoebe waited together for the launch Brainy took from the island, on those days they met at Brainy's, of which this was one. But this time Phoebe wasn't there.   
Lila wasn't alone for long, though. Even as she arrived she could make out the outline of a small boat en route from Elk Island. In due course of time it got larger, nearer. It was Brainy, of course, and as he neared the dock his face took on a mien of puzzlement.   
  
He hit the dock almost before the boat did; Lila was quick to help him secure the craft. As they worked, they talked.   
"Nice to see you, Lila, as always."   
"Thank you; the feeling, of course, is mutual. But I suppose you've noticed that Phoebe isn't here?"   
"I was thinking there were supposed to be three of us, yes." the troubled young man muttered. "Had she said anything to you?"   
Lila shook her head. "Not a thing. You either I take it, or you wouldn't have asked me."   
"Right."   
  
As they finished, the twosome heard a high-pitched ring. Brainy recognized it as his cell phone.   
Not too many people had his number. Lila & Phoebe did, of course. So did one or two choice fellow geeks. And a few members of his family. So it was with just a little bit of curiosity that Brainy answered his phone.   
"Hello? -- Phoebe? Where are you? -- What?!? -- Sorry. -- Oh, no! How bad? -- Well, at least that's all it is. -- Yes, that would go without saying. -- No, don't you worry about that; we'll be fine. -- Right, twenty-four hours. -- All right. We'll check in with you tomorrow. -- I said don't worry about it. You just get better, get over that bug. -- All right. -- Catch you tomorrow. -- All right. Get well, Phoebe. -- You too. -- See you."   
He hung up with a sigh.   
Of course Lila was bursting with curiosity. "Well?"   
"One of those unexpected complications. Phoebe's sick."   
"Oh dear, I do hope it's nothing serious."   
"It isn't; just one of those twenty-four hour bugs; she should be fine tomorrow."   
"Oh dear." Lila said as she struck a thoughtful pose, head in one hand, elbow in other hand.   
"No, really, it's nothing."   
"It's not that; she's the second person that I know of who's had it this summer."   
"Oh? Who else?"   
"Helga."   
"When was this?"   
"A couple days before Arnold's birthday; that was the reason she missed school that day. Phoebe told me."   
Brainy thought back to the day in question, the day he happened to be in school after hours with Helga, unbeknownst to her of course. "Right. Well, you know how it is. These things tend to go around; I'm just surprised it took this long for Phoebe to catch it. But that's neither here nor there."   
  
Now that their colleague was confirmed as unable for the day, the twosome was a bit uncertain. Lila broke the silence first.   
"So now what?"   
"I guess we go to my place and work on Project Helga."   
"I guess so."   
"Why? Did you have something else in mind?"   
"No, not really. By the way, how far along are we?"   
"Practically done; we could finish the tape today."   
"So we could take the day off if we wanted to."   
"I guess. Did you want to do something?"   
"Nothing in particular. Um, what would you want to do?"   
"I don't know; what would you want to do?"   
"I'm oh so certain that I don't know, what--"   
"You realize, we could go round and round with this."   
"Yeah." she admitted as they afforded themselves a laugh.   
"Someone should suggest something."   
Lila nodded. "Agreed. So what would you suggest?"   
"Me? Why should I suggest something?"   
"You're more familiar with the place; I just got here two, three years ago, remember?"   
"Yeah." There was a pause, a bit of a long one, as Brainy thought, and thought.   
  
Suddenly, he looked at her.   
"Wait, you don't know the town that well, do you?"   
"I'm ever so certain that I just said that very thing."   
"All right; what would you say if I offered to show you around, point out some places where some stuff happened?"   
"I'm ever so certain I would accept."   
"Okkay. But first," he handed her his cell phone, "call your father. I don't want us to go who-knows-where without him knowing."   
"But--"   
"Go on. I'll give you some privacy."   
And with that he thrust the phone into her hand and took a walk. Not a long walk, just up to the canoe rental place where he made arrangements for his boat; he stayed close enough, though, to remain within earshot if she called him. Which she did momentarily.   
"Brainy!"   
He came when called. "Yes?"   
She handed the phone back to him. "He wants to speak with you."   
"All right." he nervously said as he accepted his phone back.   
"Hello? -- Yes, Mr. Sawyer. -- Yes, sir. -- Of course sir. -- Oh, no, sir! -- Sorry, sir. -- Yes, sir. -- I understand, sir. -- Well, not really 'understand', but -- well, you know what I mean, sir. -- " And so on.   
  
Several minutes later, minutes consisting of mostly 'yes, sir's on this end, the call apparently ended. Lila had taken in her friend's comportment with not a little bemusement.   
"Brainy, you needn't bow and scrape like that; my Daddy is really a very nice man."   
"I'm sure he is, but when I'm speaking with a man about his only child --- his daughter, moreover --- I take no chances."   
"So what did he say to you?"   
"He told you to be back here by 5:00 so he could pick you up for the evening service, right?"   
"Yes."   
"I'm to make sure you're here."   
"Oh. All right. So what happens now?"   
"We were talking about touring the town, weren't we?"   
"I'm oh so certain that we were."   
"So--"   
"Wait, what about the boat?"   
"It'll be all right. Paul will keep an eye on it."   
"Paul?"   
"The canoe rental guy."   
Brainy pointed to Paddle Paul's Canoe Rentals, manned by its proprietor. Paul looked up from the book he was reading in time to notice the finger pointed at him, and waved to the couple.   
Brainy furthered explained. "It's not often that I ask a favor of him, but when I do--"   
Grinning, Lila interrupted. "I'm oh so certain that you made him an offer he couldn't refuse."   
"Oh, so now I'm a Corleone?"   
"Sorry." Lila then extended her hands in the direction in which they were to go, indicating for Brainy to go ahead.   
Which he did, after offering an arm to Lila. "M'Lady?"   
Which Lila with the laughing face accepted. "Thank you, kind sir."   
"Eh, fugeddaboudit."   
"I thought you wanted to avoid such comparisons."   
"Shall we go?" he changed the subject.   
And go they did. The afternoon would see Lila's familiarity with Hillwood increase, almost geometrically.   
  
================================================================  
  
And now, some highlights from the guided tour of Hillwood.   
  
================================================================  
  
53rd St, past Livingston:   
  
"And over there's the tire shop, and here, is Union Station."   
"An interesting train station."   
"More interesting than you know. There's a bit of Arnold & Helga history here."   
"Really?"   
"Mm-hm. Follow me. At midnight, Engine 25 comes through en route to the steel mill where relief workers board it."   
"What does that have to do with Arnold & Helga?"   
"I'm getting to that. Ever hear the legend of the Haunted Train?"   
"I'm oh so certain that I haven't."   
"There's an old tale of the engineer of Engine 25 going insane one night --- must be forty, forty-five years ago by now --- & driving the train off the tracks and straight to you-know-where."   
"You mean... ?"   
"Mm-hm."   
*gulp!*   
"And according to the story, the train comes back every year on the anniversary of that night to pick up more passengers on the Heckfire Express."   
"Oh dear."   
"Of course there's no proof such a thing ever happened, but once in a while someone re-tells the legend. Like Arnold's Grandpa."   
"He told Arnold the legend?"   
"And Gerald, and everyone else who was hanging around at the time, including yours truly. Arnold & Gerald were bored, so..."   
"So Arnold's Grandpa decided to intrigue them a bit."   
"And it worked. Arnold decided he'd visit this place to see if the story was true."   
"Alone?"   
"No, of course not. Arnold's not stupid; he knows of safety in numbers. So he challenged Helga and volunteered Gerald."   
"And the three of them came down here?"   
"It would seem so."   
"Wait, how do you know of all of this?"   
"I hung around after the other kids had left that day. I saw that Helga wasn't leaving, so I figured I'd stay and see what happened, I mean, a conversation between Arnold & Helga always has a certain amount of entertainment value."   
"Hmm." Lila mused, her countenance turning thoughtful. "Rhonda did say something similar, about the Arnold & Helga Show. She compared it to that show on tv."   
"Yo Ernest?"   
"I believe so."   
Brainy grimaced; he was reluctant to admit this, but... "Rhonda's a smart girl."   
"I suppose. So, you were eavesdropping on Arnold and Helga's conversation..."   
"Right. Well, when I heard him say where they'd be that night, and when, I thought I'd meet them there, so to speak. So I hotfooted it uptown and got on at the previous stop."   
"Wha-? Wh-, whatever did you have in mind? What did you think you were going to do?"   
"Y'know, I've been asking myself that question ever since? I don't know. I guess... I, I have no idea what I was thinking, maybe that something was going to happen and I wouldn't want to miss seeing it? I just don't know otherwise."   
"So what happened then?"   
"What always happens when I get close to Helga? My asthma and excitement gave me away, just about the time she was starting to lose it."   
"Why was she losing it?"   
"Put yourself in her place. Your head's full of an old legend, which you claim to not believe but we all know that Helga's very good at bluffing --- she should be with how much of it she does. You're on a spooky old train past midnight. The lights are going out, you're smelling sulfur, feeling heat, hearing something you don't know is an accordion, what would you think?"   
"Gosh. I, I'm ever so certain I wouldn't know what to think. I probably wouldn't hold up as well as she did."   
"She was a trooper all right." Brainy confirmed, a note of pride creeping into his voice. "As soon as they saw me --- in what little light there was --- they forgot all about being scared."   
"And then?"   
"They asked me what I was doing there, of course. And I didn't have an answer. So, they threw me out."   
"What?!?"   
"Well, Helga threw me out while Gerald opened the door for her. I was amazed that Helga & Gerald were actually working together."   
"And Arnold didn't do anything."   
"Maybe he was anxious to see me gone too, I dunno. He's not perfect, you know."   
"Y- yes, I know. That is to say, I..."   
Brainy gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, I know what you mean."   
"Thank you." said Lila, gratefully. Then she switched to concern for her friend. "Wait, were you hurt when they threw you off the train?"   
"No, I landed in a ditch. There was water in it, just a couple of feet deep. I walked away with just a few bumps and bruises. But you can tell anyway that I don't exactly have any long-term damage from that incident."   
She looked him up and down. "True."   
This was enough to make him a bit nervous, but he fought it. He just turned. Absently slipping his hand into hers, he said, "Come on, we have more stuff to see."   
She was agreeable to his leading, among other things, and went along where he guided her.   
"So did you ever find out what happened on that train after you were thrown off?"   
Chuckles were heard from him. "Oh, yes. It seems that when the steel workers tried to board the train, the trio attacked them with a fire hose."   
The chuckles were now joined by giggles. "Oh dear."   
"And 'Grandpa' had to come pick them up; had a good laugh about it all the way back home."   
  
================================================================  
  
A vacant lot, one that could easily dwarf Gerald Field. As wide as several alleys placed next to each other and extending for several blocks. Some might call it a courtyard; in fact, let's call it that.   
"I've been here before."   
"So you have. This is the place where the neighborhood has block parties, fairs, carnivals, circuses, festivals..."   
"Like the Cheese Festival."   
"Right, and the food festival."   
"I take it this place too has to do with the Arnold & Helga mythos."   
"You don't mis-take it."   
They both laughed at another of Brainy's jokes.   
  
Brainy then pointed toward the rear of the courtyard.   
"That's where the food festival usually has the eating contest booth."   
"Oh?"   
"Yeah. I was in one once, must have been just before you came."   
"How did you do?"   
"Not good, not bad. I was the fourth one down, out of seven. You have to train for these things, and I didn't. The first three courses took a toll on me, and when the Caesar salad arrived the smell was all it took to lay me low. Arnold won, by the way."   
"Really? I'd never heard about that!"   
"Well, let me tell you..."   
  
Several minutes later...   
"...Seymour's backers from P.S. 119 made some noise about challenging the outcome, and I can see where they might have a point. I mean, the rest of us competitors were all friends of Arnold, and so were the people who supplied the food. Tacos from Mr. Hyunh's restaurant, salad from Gerald's mother, peppers from Arnold's own grandmother! Not to mention the head judge, Mr. Green? But nothing came of it. I mean, the Jolly Olly Man's not exactly inclined to be partial to anyone. He'd supplied the last course, by which time it was down to Arnold & Seymour, not to mention he'd bet on Seymour. So the 119 folks decided it wasn't worth it... Lila? Lila, am I boring you? Hello?"   
Brainy turned around, to find he'd lost his audience. Lila had wondered elsewhere, to another certain spot. A spot with which Brainy also was acquainted.   
"It was here, wasn't it? The Tunnel of Love?" She was fighting the urge to tear up, or do a slow burn.   
From his vantage point, Brainy couldn't see Lila's face, so he couldn't see what she was going through at the time; he only knew that she wasn't happy. In jig time he had crossed over to her side, where he puzzled over how to comfort her.   
Lila, for her part, was thinking. Make that thinking out loud.   
"I almost drowned that night. If Arnold hadn't been there..."   
"Lila?"   
"It was Helga, wasn't it? Somehow, she got to our boat, 'fixed' it so it would sink."   
"Um, I don't know; I was in another boat at the time."   
Now she was fighting her own feelings, trying to prevent a breakdown, or worse. "To know that she hated me that much..."   
"It wasn't necessarily you. She kind of did the same thing the previous year, when he was smitten with Ruth MacDougal."   
"Still..."   
Brainy was definitely nervous now, seeing in his mind a scenario of Lila turning on Helga & going after Arnold for herself after all. To stave off such thoughts from the girl's mind, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Lila, I almost drowned that night too. Not only did Helga throw me out of the boat I was in --- I was riding solo of course --- but when I tried to get back in she whacked me over the head with a paddle. I got a concussion from that! But Lila, we can't let hard feelings from such things get to us. We have to understand..."   
"We already understand. We've been hearing her pouring her heart out to Arnold."   
"Yes, we have. We know of the love --- twisted as it is --- that she has for him. We know about the win at all costs mindset that has been ingrained in her from birth. We know about her passions. Consider that mixture of mixed-up emotions, what it could drive a person to."   
"That sounds like ever so many excuses."   
"I know. But if we allow it to get to us, do you realize what would happen? The anger, the bitterness, it can take hold inside of you or me or anywhere it finds a breeding ground. It takes root and grows, and it turns into the sort of warped, twisted, damaged person that you and I are trying to fix right now. Don't take this the wrong way, you know how I feel and have felt about Helga, but we don't need to make any more Helgas. And that's how it will be if we allow ourselves to stay angry with her, or even worse, bitter. This is a grudge we're talking about, and grudges only hurt those who hold them. We have to let it go. Lila, we have to forgive her. We have to move on."   
She turned to face him, a faint smile on her face. "I know; I already had." The smile faded. "Still, it hurts, a little."   
Brainy let a minute or two go by before he echoed, "Yeah."   
For a while nothing was said as the two of them stood there side by side, pondering their respective histories with Helga, and whatever else came to either of their minds. Finally, Brainy broke the silence. "Well then, let the hurt die." He paused before adding, "Let it start here."   
After another minute, Lila agreed. "Amen."   
No more was said, as Brainy and Lila just stood there, looking and thinking. Silent mutual consent was the order of the day, er, minute as they glanced at each other, nodded, and then started to walk. They had more places to go.   
  
================================================================  
  
Near the intersection of Vine & 34th Streets. On one side of the street is Leo's, a soda shop. On the other is an appliance repair shop. And next door to that...   
"'Madame Blanch's Love Potions'?"   
Lila continued to take in the sight, then her gaze shifted to Brainy. A gaze teeming with questions.   
"What are we doing here?"   
"I'm not sure."   
"You're not sure? I remember what happened when Phoebe said that to you."   
Brainy snorted with the memory. "Yeah, so do I."   
He started to pace, then stopped. He then faced Lila.   
"Look, I have no idea what it was about. All I know is that one day a different Helga came to school."   
"Different? How?"   
"In behavior. She looked the same, answered to the same name, but it wasn't her."  
"She was behaving differently, you said."   
"Right."   
"How?"   
"That day, she wasn't mean to Arnold. No pranks, no taunts, no spitballs, nothing. Also, her poetry stunk. I was all the way across the room that day, but of course given my obsession I had long before learned how to focus on her voice. I heard what Simmons said to her, and what she wrote. It stunk up the joint."   
"Because of Arnold."   
"Must be. She didn't even make a fuss when the two of them collided, again. She was like she didn't care. She didn't care enough to get upset. That time as I was coming up behind her she was going on about what a regular guy he was."   
"And did she notice you?"   
"Enough to say hello to me & walk off."   
"That was good."   
"No, that was bad. Without knowing it, over the years I had inadvertently conditioned myself to anticipate my lights getting punched out when I got too close to her. When it didn't happen that time, I went into a bit of a fit. Palpitations, shortness of breath, cold sweats, I finally had to pop myself in the kisser to stop it."   
"Oh, dear."   
"Tell me about it."   
"Phoebe would be ever so intrigued. It smacks of Pavlov."   
"Doesn't it, though? But I think I'm finally over it, thanks to Dr. Bliss of course."   
"Oh, yes, of course. But what does it have to do with this place?" she gestured toward the shop.   
"As soon as I recovered, I followed her. I followed her to that bridge over there," he pointed down the street, "where she had a word or two with Phoebe. It seems she had an obsession she called 'ice cream'."   
"'Ice cream'?" Lila was understandably puzzled.   
"Yeah. I think it was code for Arnold, which she didn't even want Phoebe to know about. Apparently, she'd tried to quell her obsession, only to find out how empty her life was without it, that she needed it. Next thing I knew she was making a beeline for this place & begging the proprietor to lift the spell."   
"And did she?"   
"I guess; not one minute after leaving the shop she bumped into Arnold again. And again, she screamed at him. She was back to normal, and she was very happy about it."   
"Very puzzling."   
"Mm-hmm."   
About then someone's stomach growled. Or was that more than one? Whatever the case, both of them were a bit embarrassed. After an uncomfortable silence...   
"I guess it's close enough to lunchtime to start thinking about something to eat."   
"I suppose so. Leo's?" Lila wondered as she glanced across the street.   
Brainy shook his head. "They're closed on Sundays. But I think Ted's is open."   
"Ted's?"   
"A burger & shake place. And it's on our way."   
"I suppose we should go, then."   
And so they went.   
  
================================================================  
  
They were getting closer to Arnold's. If they acknowledged that fact, though, they didn't mention it. The YMAA building, the city pool, the park, anything and everything Brainy could think of that touched on Arnold or Helga or both; all were behind them by now. They were within a dozen blocks or so as they finished their lunch.   
"Ah-hah! Now, this place brings back a memory or two."   
"J-Mart?"   
"Mm-hmm. It's where I helped Harold try to set a world record."   
"Really?"   
"Yeah. He was going to set a record for longest ride on one of these mechanical animal kiddie rides, and I was to get money from anyone who passed by to finance the venture."   
"How did this happen?"   
"It started like just about everything else remarkable starts, with Arnold. You see, one day he got hold of a copy of a book of world records. I can't explain it, but something must have clicked inside him, because after that it was like he was on a quest to get us into the book. And he could be very persuasive, got the whole neighborhood involved, even Mr. Kokoshka."   
"Wow! That is ever so impressive! But you and Harold weren't part of this?"   
"We were at first, but after a string of failures Harold bolted, and I went with him. I guess he figured he could do better in the world records department on his own."   
"Why did you help him?"   
"I dunno. Maybe I was having self-esteem problems or something."   
"What? You?"   
"It can happen. You see, Joey, you know who Joey is."   
"Yes."   
"Well, he'd been Harold's sidekick for a while. But they were coming to a parting of the ways. I guess I was curious to see if I could be someone's sidekick."   
"So you chose Harold." Lila's tone had just a hint of disapproval in it.   
Brainy was suitably apologetic. "The opportunity presented itself."   
"Edward, that is so unlike you."   
He sighed. "I know."   
His gaze then returned to the mechanical pony ride at the store's front, then he frowned as his mood and his memories of the incident turned just a bit sour. "Let's go."   
But as they walked away, the conversation continued.   
"So did they ever finally make it into the record book?"   
"Yeah, *chuckle* for most attempts to get in."   
*giggle*   
  
================================================================  
  
They were closing in, now passing an arcade which was next to a bookstore. Suddenly, Brainy froze; he started sweating, his asthmatic condition made more obvious, his heart beat accelerating. Lila was understandably concerned.   
"What is it?"   
His eyes darted wildly from side to side. "Eugene and I were mugged here once."   
Lila gasped. "Were you hurt?"   
"The worst we got was a paper clip embedded in the side of my head. You can barely see the scar." He turned his head, exposing the appropriate side to her, and pointed. "Can you?"   
She looked at his head, long and hard. "No I can't. I don't see a scar at all."   
"That's a relief." he commented dryly.   
Lila shook her head. "It must have been awful."   
"It was." Brainy was grim. He started to recount the ordeal, with not a little bitterness. "There were three of them. All we had was a bag of cookies. 'What's in the bag?' he said. Eugene told him, macaroons and mallomars; he could see that. But he wasn't satisfied. 'Wrong answer' he said. What would have been the right answer?"   
His mood was degenerating. Lila tried to head him off. "Edward..."   
"It seems that some people just want to cause pain and grief to others. It wasn't for some slight, perceived or otherwise, like Patty. It wasn't loan sharking, like Torvald or Big Gino. It wasn't even incidental, like Helga or Harold. It was deliberate, sadistic violence, committed for its own sake."   
He would have gone farther, but found himself cut off when he noticed Lila hugging him. It was everything he could do not to faint; as it was, he had to sit down on the curb. Lila sat with him.   
"I'm sorry, Edward." She said after a bit.   
He shrugged his shoulders. "No harm, no foul, as they say. The muggers didn't get away with anything as it turned out, not even their toothpicks."   
"Oh?"   
"Yeah. Arnold showed up and saved us."   
"Arnold again?"   
"Yeah. See, he'd gotten mugged himself not too long before that, so his grandmother put him through some martial arts training. Next thing you know he was kicking you-know-what."   
"Arnold?!? Are you oh so certain about that?"   
"You can ask anyone, except Arnold. He doesn't want to talk about it. Probably because it brought out his dark side."   
"I didn't know he had a dark side."   
"We all do, Lila."   
"Jekyll & Hyde?"   
"Exactly. One day he was saving Eugene, the next day he was shoving him into a locker."   
Lila gasped, again. "No! Not Arnold!"   
"You can ask Billy; he had an unfortunate run-in with him."   
And now Lila was shaking her head, again. "I just can't believe it."   
"Well, it didn't last. Arnold can not stay bad; he was back to normal the next day, apologized to everyone he even thought he might have done anything to."   
"I'm ever so happy to hear that."   
Lila looked away as she spoke. When she looked back, Brainy was standing again, holding a hand out to her.   
"Come on."   
She took his hand and stood.   
"Like I said, Lila, it's behind us."   
She nodded, before resuming the walk.   
"So you borrowed from Big Gino?"   
"uh, Torvald, actually. A quarter."   
"Why? It's not as if you need the money."   
"Edward Moore Elkins V doesn't, true. I guess 'Brainy' was trying to build a credit rating. How was I to know he'd collect early?"   
"That doesn't make any sense!"   
"Sometimes when you're nine, you do things that don't make any sense. Come to think of it, not just when you're nine."   
"That's true."   
  
================================================================  
  
Another street, ever so much closer to the boarding house. This time the business at hand was Bill & Ron Records & Tapes. Brainy stopped in front of it and checked his watch.   
"Hmm, if I had a little more time I'd go in for a minute. Probably just as well; once I go in there I tend to take up residence."   
"It's that good?"   
"It's not Gamma-Lot, but yes. I've found some surprises there, added some choice items to my collection. It's at the out of the way store where you're more likely to find the rare gem."   
As they walked away, he cast a longing glance over his shoulder. "Yeah, it's a pretty good little music store; glad I found it...   
"Wait, here's something."   
Lila looked in front of her; there was nothing there, just the street. She was puzzled and it showed.   
"Well? What do you think of our old ball field?"   
"What? You guys played in the street?"   
"It's done all the time in the big city; I'm surprised you haven't had the pleasure."   
"I-, I've always played at Gerald Field."   
"Oh yeah." He started walking again. "Yes, that would explain it."   
As they walked, Brainy took a trip down memory lane, which he endeavored to share with Lila. "You really missed something, Lila. Oh, playing in the streets was full of inconvenience. Cars would pass all the time, constantly interrupting the game; it could take days to play one inning, and sometimes it did. And when the ball found its way into a speeding vehicle, well, that was the ballgame. But there was a whole other vibe about street ball, something a field or a park just can't capture."   
"Did you see much playing time back then?"   
He smiled with the memories. "Oh, yeah. So did Eugene & Sheena. And Nadine, come to think of it. Oh, Curly, Park, Iggy, Joey, Robert... sometimes it seems like what we have now is a whole different team."   
"Rhonda didn't play back then?"   
"Not much, no. Amazingly, she'd be more likely to be on the bowling or, or even the football team."   
"Football? Rhonda?"   
"I know, looking back I can hardly believe it myself, but she could get down & dirty with the best of us. I think it was because she had a thing for Harold --- maybe she still does; um, but you didn't hear that from me."   
"Hmm. Come to think of it, they did take the Tunnel of Love ride together that time at the Cheese Festival."   
"You don't say."   
"Right, what am I thinking, you probably saw it too. I wonder if Patty knows."   
"I'm not going to tell her."   
"Me neither. Our plates are full as they are with Arnold & Helga's love lives."   
"Exactly."   
  
================================================================  
  
"...and here we are, the legendary Gerald Field, home field to the students of P.S. 118, the site where--"   
"Brainy, this tour guide schtick of yours is ever so adorable, but it's oh so unnecessary at Gerald Field. I've been here before." Lila started, before being stopped by a poignant question.   
"Have you really?"   
"Um, what?"   
Brainy was now feeling around on the grass of Gerald Field. He then turned to her, fixing her in his sights.   
"I was here the day after Arnold and Gerald discovered this place. We --- Harold, Eugene, Sheena, Sid, Arnold & Gerald of course, Helga & Robert came later --- we cleaned this lot. We cleared out the junk --- it was a dump when we got here. I can remember, oh, so many things about this place." His voice and his expression turned wistful. "I remember hoeing, raking, pulling weeds." He stood up, extending an arm toward the far wall. "We drew the lines on that wall." Then toward the base paths. "Arnold and Gerald drew those base lines originally, manning the Wacky Chalk." Then, facing her, he extended both arms. "We christened this place, and we played the first game here. And then the next day we lost it."   
That caught her unprepared. "What?"   
"We lost it, the whole place. Gerald Field. When we came here the next day the grownups had moved in and taken over."   
And his arms went into action again. "Ernie Potts' tomatoes and Harvey the mailman's chickens were there at the front. The checkers table was on the pitcher's mound. A horseshoe court was there in the infield. A boccieball court in the outfield. A hammock... I forget where the hammock was." As he spoke, he illustrated every adult encroachment by indicating the appropriate site.   
"We tried playing around them, but when Mrs. Vitello said 'This is no place to play baseball!', that was it. As of that moment, we were evicted."   
"But that wasn't all. It wasn't enough that they forced us out of the place we'd made for ourselves, they started pushing against each other. Suzy Kokoshka wanted the croquet field where Mr. Hyunh wanted the potted plants, before ol' Phil got the idea to move the checkers table to the same place. Mr. Green wanted to put a sweat tent where Mrs. Vitello wanted philodendrons. Harvey's chickens were eating Potts' tomatoes. They were actually physically fighting each other. It was disgusting, I mean, if that's a grownup I hope I never grow up. Meanwhile, we were reduced to playing in an alley. An alley!"   
Lila was moved by Brainy's account. "Well, obviously, you got the place back. What did you do?"   
Brainy grinned. "Arnold came up with a gem of an idea, again. He noticed a full dumpster and he grinned at us. It took a minute, but we all caught on to what he had in mind eventually, except maybe Harold but he went along."   
"Wait, are you saying you..."   
"...pushed the dumpster down here and covered the place in junk again."   
"Weren't the grownups furious?"   
"Oh, yeah. But Arnold and Gerald spoke for us kids and sent them on a guilt trip. They told them that if they wanted Gerald Field so bad they could have it the way we found it, a dump."   
"And then?"   
"They returned the field to us the next day, and in a better condition than ever, I might add." He sighed. "Gotta hand it to those grownups. When they want to, they can get things done. And they have the resources to do it better than we can."   
  
================================================================  
  
Meanwhile, a certain trio was meeting just a hop skip & jump away from Gerald Field; specifically, in the boarding house. Or I should say on the boarding house; this meeting --- for whatever reason --- was taking place on the roof.   
"So she's ready."   
"Oh, she's ready all right. She's going to lay down the law to him."   
"And if he doesn't like it?"   
"What do you mean, 'if'? Considering who we're talking about?"   
"Right, my fault for asking."   
"And when he doesn't like it, tough. There will be no option."   
"Okkay, and when that happens, that's when Gerald comes in with the offer. It's ready too, right, Gerald?"   
silence   
"Gerald?"   
more silence.   
Arnold and Helga, until now preoccupied with their discussion, now started to look for their uncharacteristically silent partner. They didn't need long to find him; he was standing at the edge of the roof, on the side facing out over Gerald Field.   
"Hey! Tall Hair Boy!" Helga barked as she and Arnold advanced on Gerald. "What's your deal? You're not supposed to go drifting off into daydreams; that's Arnoldo's job." punctuating that last part with an affectionate slap on Arnold's person, secure in Gerald's temporary oblivion covering her gesture.   
"Just something you might be interested in." came from Gerald.   
"What is it?" Arnold queried as he pulled alongside his best friend. "Wha-? Wonder what Brainy & Lila are doing in Gerald Field?"   
Helga was nervous at Arnold catching sight of Lila, but she hid it well. "Hello, footballhead? What are the three of us doing up here? It's probably a group project meeting."   
"But then why isn't Phoebe with them?"   
"She's sick." Helga & Gerald inadvertantly chorused, before trading looks with each other, looks that were equal parts 'uh-oh' and 'oh-ho!' .  
But Arnold was as usual oblivious to the subtleties going on around him; this time, however, he had a legitimate excuse in the couple down in front. Not to mention word of their sick friend. "Phoebe's sick? I hope it's nothing serious."   
Gerald and Helga communicated with their eyes before Helga gave Arnold the info. "No, it's just one of those 24-hour things; I, I had it a couple months back, remember?"   
"Oh yeah." He then returned his attention to the ground. "So what's been going on there, Gerald?"   
"Brainy talking, I think. I'm not sure; I couldn't really hear anything from here."   
"Talking?!? That twisted little freak?"   
"I know it sounds unbelieveable, but his mouth was moving. Wait, now he's taking a phone call."   
"I didn't know Brainy had a cell phone."   
"Come to think of it, what do we know about Brainy?"   
"Pft, what's there to know? He's a twisted little freak who always shows up in the wrong time and place. Remember those caves, or that train ride?"   
"Don't remind me."   
"Look, now he's going off to the side of Gerald Field. I guess he needed privacy."   
"Ooh, that's brilliant, Hair Boy!" Helga catcalled with a surreptitious wink.   
Just then thunder sounded.   
"We'd better take this inside, Arnold."   
"Ooh, Geraldo's sharp today."   
" *sigh* Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Helga."   
"Hey, that's Hair Boy's line!"   
"Yeah, right, whatever." Gerald grumbled as he power walked away from Helga and toward the attic door.   
Arnold followed, but he turned back halfway there. "You coming, Helga?"   
"Yeah yeah yeah, I'll be right there; criminey! Can't a girl have a moment to herself?"   
"Helga."   
She knew that tone. She turned around and fell once again into the searching emerald orbs. Satisfied that Gerald was well out of contact, she half-smiled at him. "I'll just be a minute, Arnold."   
Satisfied for the time being, Arnold half-smiled back. Without another word he nodded, then turned and followed Gerald.   
  
She watched him as he left. When the door closed behind him, and she could hear his feet on the steps down, she exhaled. As was her wont, she pulled the locket out of the front of her blouse and gazed at it.   
*sigh* , "Arnold. How he knows me, and yet, how he doesn't. I have shared so much, and even before this summer it was like he knew my very thoughts, like he was in tune with what I was thinking. And why not? Every thought was about him. In some ways, he already owns me. And yet..." she looked up from her locket just enough to turn around to walk toward the edge of the roof, "...and yet I still hold back. As much as he knows, as much as I say, I still find myself choking on the very words, which I would fain SHOUT FROM THE ROOFTOPS!"   
Whether she would have caught herself doing the very thing she said, and whether she would have stopped, are questions that will remain unanswered. For at this point she happened to look away from her locket, upon the latest scene at Gerald Field.   
Brainy was still occupied off to the side. There in the middle of the front of Gerald Field, alone, was Lila. And she was looking straight up at Helga.   
Helga froze; she knew that look well. Since that first Sunday, all those weeks ago, she & Lila had said nothing to each other; but every time the two were within sight of each other she got the same look from her. It was a challenge, an admonition, and always the same questions. Have you told him yet? Why not? What's wrong with you? (although in the latter case where would she start?) It was like Lila too had her number, and Helga resented it. She also resented that she kept finding herself on the losing end of these staredowns they kept having, and for which she hadn't asked.   
She lost again. Her locket suddenly felt heavy in her hands; she returned it to its resting place, close to her heart; breaking the stare in the process. As she turned, she cast one last glance back down at Lila. "Hmph! Little Miss Perfect, la-di-dah! Hmph!" she grumbled as she stomped toward the entrance   
  
================================================================  
  
Lila frowned as she saw Helga turn away yet again. Maybe these little staring things the two adversaries had been doing could be regarded as contests, and maybe she was winning them, but she took no satisfaction from them.   
" *sigh* When will you tell him, Helga? When?" she murmured as Brainy approached her.   
"What was that, Lila?" he said, surprising her a little.   
Lila shook her head. "Nothing that we won't take care of before all is said and done." She then focused on him, changing the subject. "So, what was that call about?"   
"That was your father. You heard the thunder?" She nodded. "He wanted to make sure we had adequate preparation and cover. You know, raincoats, umbrella, whatever." Another nod. "Um, how did he get my number?"   
"Brainy, I had to give it to him."   
"Of course."   
"Wait, I'm ever so certain we don't have any raincoats or umbrellas with us."   
"They're in the boat; I just forgot to bring them along." he sheepishly admitted. "So, I guess this concludes our tour of Hillwood, unless there's any point of interest I've missed that you want to see."   
Her expression turned crafty. "Well, I'm oh so certain that I've wanted to see those caves."   
His eyebrows shot up. "On Elk Island? That's practically my backyard."   
"I know. That's why I'd feel safer exploring them with you."   
He caught her expression, he thought. "Oh. I see." He fought off another case of nerves, as well as a bit of an asthma flareup. "Well, like I said the rain stuff is with the boat; we should be getting back there anyway."   
She nodded, then held her hand out for him to take. "Lead on, then."   
  
================================================================  
  
Things were pretty uneventful after that, unless you count it starting to rain just as the two of them reached the boat. The trip back through town to the dock, the trip across the Skukumchuk to Elk Island, the walk to the caves --- all passed with some degree of quiet, if a bit wet.   
Brainy continued to play the role of the tour guide, with Lila as his charge. He hadn't exaggerated; he knew the caves like they were his own home, which in a way they were. It could be considered an interesting tour; he directed her attention to points of interest, shared with her some of his favorite parts of the cave system, expanded a bit on the legend of Billy Elkins, and tipped her off when to look away from some of the more unpleasant historical artifacts, such as skulls. At those times, she fought to keep herself from screaming and squeezing his hand, and didn't always win. When she didn't, he quickened his pace to escape the loose rocks and dirt, and he let her squeeze his hand. And if his attention had been on the latter... well, it was a good thing that it wasn't.   
  
Finally...   
"...and here's where I met the others that day."   
"Like you did with the trio on the train?"   
For some reason, reliving that memory for the second time that day unnerved him a bit. "Um, yeah, kind of like that. Uh, anyway, here I was in the shadows, um, care to guess which particular ones I met first?"   
"Oh no, Arnold and Helga?"   
"I'm afraid so. Again, Helga heard me wheezing and didn't recognize me. Instead, she jumped into Arnold's arms, and screamed."   
Lila squealed, then dissolved into giggles.   
Several minutes later, she was still giggling.   
After several more minutes, Brainy had had enough.   
"It's nice to know that that situation amuses you so."   
"I'm - *hic* - sorry, Brainy. It's just that - *snicker* - the whole situation just sounds so - *teehee* - so sweet and, and, and--"   
"I believe an appropriate word would be 'kawaii'. It means cute, but the connotation this side of the Pacific seems to have taken on a bit of an extra meaning which I currently don't have the words to describe."   
"Yes, yes that was it, cute, but more."   
"Exactly. Uh, now, are you finished, or is your gigglebox good for a while yet?"   
"I'm sorry, Edward."   
"Uh, yeah, um, you already apologized."   
"Oh yeah. Um, I think I'll be all right now, unless you say something else to set me off."   
"I'll be careful with what I say." he responded dryly. "Now, of course when Helga screamed--"   
" *snort*, *giggle* "   
"Lila?"   
"Left over, I swear."   
He decided to skip it. "Of course, when Helga screamed, it brought the others. The most prominent of them was Phoebe; there she was, swinging her flashlight about the way a Jedi knight handles a light saber. After she'd finally settled down, I stepped into the light. Of course they were surprised to see me, of course they asked me what I was doing there, and of course I didn't have an answer."   
"Just like on the train."   
"Yep."   
"Then what? Did they try to throw you out of the cave?"   
"This far in?" he stretched and waved both arms about him, indicating the cave system. He then turned thoughtful. "No, it's a funny thing. On the train they had no place to go but I did; here I had no place to go but they did. Maybe it was just different ways of getting rid of me, or getting away from me."   
"So what did they do?"   
"They turned around and went back in the direction they'd come from."   
"And they just forgot about you?"   
"They had a little help; they went through the floor over there not ten seconds after they were out of my sight."  
"My goodness! They weren't any of them hurt, were they?"   
"I don't think so; they walked away later on."   
"Did you ever find out what happened?"   
"Yeah, and my family was not happy about it. There were these two hoods who were counterfeiting pennies downstairs."   
That set Lila going again. "Pennies? They were counterfeiting pennies?"   
"Yeah. I never said they were smart."   
"Haha, obviously." Lila tried to get it under control as she started walking and studying the cave walls. "Did you say your family wasn't happy about the situation?"   
"Yeah. Illegal activity happening on our property? We've had enough to deal with what with the family reputation and all. It was justified once, but not in recent decades. Tell that to some people, though. There's probably still a few people on the force who'd love to pin something on us, anything. I for one was having daymares--"   
"Daymares? Wait... Oh, like nightmares only in the day."   
"Right. As I was saying I could imagine the family being hauled down for questioning, into court about our role, whether we had any or not. And I'd have to be there too; word would get out about who I am. I wasn't looking forward to any of that."   
"I can imagine."   
"No you can't."   
"... ", she started, then stopped. "Uh... you're right. So what happened?"   
"Nothing. We didn't have to do anything, no one came to the house, not even a phone call. It seems Vic & Morrie --- that was their names by the way --- copped to everything. I guess the authorities figured we weren't stupid enough to be part of counterfeiting pennies, but they were. So, we dodged a bullet, so to speak. Heheh."   
"Mmm." Lila mused; she was still walking, quite interested at the walls, particularly what was drawn thereon. "Nice drawings of you."   
He joined her, chuckling, again. "That's not me; that's old Billy Elkins, after he went native. I'll admit, the resemblance is a bit unnerving. Although Wheezin' Ed looked nothing like either of us."   
"Genes have been known to skip a generation or two."   
"True."   
  
Silence ensued. For a while nothing was said. Lila continued to examine the cave walls, and Brainy appeared to be examining her from a distance, behind her back. Finally, he broke the silence.   
"So aren't you going to ask?"   
Her head whipped around as she turned to face him. "Beg pardon? Ask you what?"   
"Why I was here that day."   
"Well, that's oh so obvious. This is practically your back yard."   
"But why was I here, in this particular place, coming out to meet them?"   
"Oh. I see, I think. Why were you?"   
"Because they were getting too close to finding one of the secret passages."   
"There are secret passages here?"   
"I told you that there are, remember?"   
"Oh. Um, I think so."   
"We were at the house, on the stairs, you saw the family artifacts and--"   
"Yes, I'm oh so sure I remember now. So the other end of it is around here?"   
He nodded. "Would you like to see it?"   
"I'm oh so certain I would."   
"Come on, then."   
  
En route, Lila started thinking. "Edward?" she called from behind him.   
He turned. "Yes?"   
"What were you going to do once you met them? It goes without saying they would be ever so curious about your very presence here."   
He crossed his arms as his eyes closed with the thought. "You're right... Sometimes I think they'll come back. Especially Arnold; he can be quite persistent."   
"Yes, he can. So? What were you going to do?"   
After another short silence, she heard him chuckle a bit. "I never did work that out. Since that day, I've gone over it in my mind again and again. And I really have no idea what I was thinking of doing, what I was going to do. I'm just lucky that other events interfered; within minutes they'd forgotten all about me."   
"A strange kind of luck."   
He turned back, and they continued their journey. "It's the kind I'm the most familiar with, Lila. It's the kind I'm the most familiar with."   
"No surprise there."   
"What?"   
"Nothing."   
  
================================================================  
  
After a series of twists and turns, things grew dark. Well, they were already dark, but now they went pitch black.   
"Edward? *OOF!* "   
"Watch your step."   
"Thanks for the warning."   
"Don't mention it. Oh, here's the passage."   
"I don't know if I'll be able to make it; I can't see my hand in front of my face."   
"Here, take my hand.... You got it?"   
"I, I think so."   
"If you don't, someone's in here with us-- *OUCH!* Not so tight, Lila!"   
"Well, you deserved it; are you trying to scare me?"   
"Sorry... uh, Lila, would you mind doing that ag-, whup, here we are."   
"Doing what ag-, we are?"   
"Yeah, we just have to climb this ladder. Up we go... are you with me?"   
" *pant* *pant* Right behind you."   
"Not tiring you out, am I?"   
"Oh, no, I grew up running and climbing."   
"Okkay... wait, we've reached the top. Just let me get out, and then come on up."   
"Waiting."   
"Now we've been hanging around Phoebe too much. Okkay, I'm out now!"   
"All right... *grunt* , *breathe*, Edward?"   
"I've got you. Going up?"   
"I'm up, I'm up. *bump* oops."   
"I'd better get the light."   
"There's a light?"   
"Of course. We're inside the house now."   
*click*   
  
Lila took advantage of her now-restored sight to look about. They were in a small room, about twelve by twelve, in which the two of them almost barely fit. As in it would have been a bare fit with just a little less room.   
The walls were white, at least, as much of them as she could see. As was the slanted ceiling; apparently they were under a staircase. A single light hung from the ceiling with a string attached to it. A sink was aginst one wall. And pretty much all around, except for the side with the door, were all sorts of cleaning implements. Brushes, cleaners, mops, squeegees, buckets, brooms...   
"This is a broom closet."   
"Correct the first time. Excuse me, please."   
"Wha-? oh!"   
She stepped aside, and as she did she noticed a hole in the middle of the floor. She took in the sight of Brainy closing the hinged trap door and pulling linoleum over it. He then stood and faced her.   
"A souvenir of Wheezin' Ed." he explained. "If there was ever a raid --- and I'm not so sure there wasn't, no one's talking about that --- just about the last place they'd look for the hooch would be under the broom closet."   
"I suppose so."   
As she gazed at the floor, Brainy crossed over to and opened the door. "After you?"   
"Thank you."   
  
As they emerged from the broom closet, they removed their raincoats.   
Brainy took Lila's in addition to his own. "I'll put these in the front room so we can get them when we leave,"   
"All right."   
By the time he got back, Lila was giving her clothes the onceover; she didn't like what she saw.   
"Ugh, I've gotten ever so dirty down there. I'm going to need to take a shower when I get home. And Daddy's not going to like it either."   
"So you'll need to get home earlier? Say half an hour?"   
"I suppose so. I'm just not looking forward to what Daddy will say."   
"You said he's nice."   
"Oh, he's just ever so nice. But he will be disappointed that I got dirty when I knew we were going to evening service. It's not as if I didn't know; we do it every Sunday."   
Lila was indeed feeling bad, and it showed. Which made Brainy feel bad too. He wanted to do something for her. And he thought of something.   
"Well, you could... no, never mind."   
"What?"   
"No, it's probably not a good idea."   
"What?"   
"Well, I was just thinking if you really didn't want him to know--"   
"Oh, I don't."   
"...that you could shower here, but it's probably not a good idea."  
"Oh. ... No, I guess not."   
"I mean, if there was some other way to avoid having to face him all dirty you know I'd--"   
"Oh, I know you would."   
"It's not like I'd TRY anything or nothing."   
"I, I know."   
"Goodness knows, I mean, I realize we're friends and, and we've become a bit of what you might call close friends..."   
"True."   
"But you showering at my house, miles away from town, that might be..."   
"Yes, I, I can see what you mean."   
  
The two of them had been getting more & more uncomfortable with every sentence, with every word, really. If the journey around town and across the strait and through the caves hadn't made them all sweaty, the conversation would have. By now, Brainy had his phone out. He was fingering it absently.   
"So..."   
"So."   
" *sigh* "   
"Hmm."   
"Yeah."   
"Right."   
"I, guess I should call your father and tell him?"   
"I, guess."   
His asthma was definitely on display as his finger shakily advanced toward the button he'd programmed on speed dial for her number. To testify to the tension, her breath could be heard from across the room as well. The finger moved in, then dipped, rose, and dipped again. His frustration was nearing its limit.   
"Look, this is silly. Lila, do you trust me?"   
"Of, of course."   
"So there's no reason you can't..." frustrated, he trailed off in a flurry of huffing & puffing.   
Lila was gentle. "Edward?"   
"Do you really trust me?"   
"I already said so. I trust you oh so much."   
"So, so there's no reason you, you couldn't, um, sho-, uh,--"   
"Shower here?"   
"Uh, yeah."   
"Well, I don't have a bathrobe."   
"You can borrow mine."   
"Thank you."   
"And, and you can, you can leave your clothes outside the bathroom door and, and I could run a load while you're, you're in, in there."   
"Edward? You're blushing."   
"Can, can you blame me?"   
"No, I guess not."   
"So as soon as I get my breathing un-, under control I, I'll go get that bathrobe and, and you can go to the, to the bathroom."   
"Anything I can do to help?"   
"Could you hit me in the face?"   
"No." she answered immediately.   
"Could you hold my hands to keep me from hitting myself in the face?"   
"All right."   
So she did, quite firmly too. She found that the more firm she was, the calmer he seemed to get. She also sensed that the firmer she was the more she liked it; it bothered her. After a moment he indicated he was ready, so they went about their respective doings, if that makes any sense.   
  
================================================================  
  
The moments of embarrassment and of hesitation --- real or imagined --- on both their parts are far too many to relate here, so let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene, as Mark Twain used to say. Suffice it to say that Lila took her shower while Brainy ran a load of her clothes.   
He had put them in the dryer just before she came out. As she had nothing extra to wear she kept his robe on, for which he was quite thankful; his hormones were getting enough torture as it was.   
They rendezvoused in the room in the house with which they were the most familiar, and consequently the room in the house where they felt the most comfortable: Brainy's planning room, which was really kind of a library.   
Other than the table and chairs at which the planning for Operation Helga had been taking place, and the entertainment center, the only furniture in the room was a couch in one corner. It was on this couch that Lila was resting, pondering the books on the walls in front of her, when Brainy found her.   
  
"Lila?"   
"Hmm? Oh, hello Edward."   
"You seemed comfortable there, if a bit spaced out."   
"I was just looking at the books. This is quite a collection."   
"Yeah, well, I wish I could take credit for it. One of the things previous generations decided is the mark of a quality family: a library in the house. I guess I'll inherit it, though."   
"Mm."   
"Oh, I just put your clothes in the dryer."   
"Thank you. Aren't you going to shower?"   
"I don't have anywhere to go tonight; other than dropping you off I'll be here all day. I can go before bed."   
"Mm."   
"So," he said, starting to walk around the room, "anything you want to do while we're waiting?"   
"Work on Project Helga?"   
"I thought we were going to wait on Phoebe for that."   
"Oh yes, that's right."   
"Do you want to read something? Some music, maybe?"   
"More Emerson Lake and Palmer?"   
He looked at her.   
"Oh, right. Only with Phoebe, group music."   
"Yeah. How about something, um, you like country, right?"   
By now he'd crossed to the other side of the room, the 'music side'. An entire wall of cds, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, divided by musical genre. Having left the couch, Lila was now at his side as he scanned the wall of sound, so to speak. She was impressed, again.   
"You have quite a collection."   
"Thanks. The credit, though, must go to Ned."   
"Ned?"   
"The dj?"   
Lila apparently hadn't heard of him; her face said as much.   
"You don't listen to am radio, do you?"   
"Or fm."   
"Wait, my mistake, I mean radio in the am."   
"Oh. No, I don't."   
"Well, you missed something missing Ned. I was teamed with him for Career Day one year and that's what started my interest in music."   
"Interesting."   
"Yeah, I learned a lot from Ned."   
"Such as?"   
"Such as make yourself as invaluable as possible to wherever you work for as long as possible. And never let yourself get tied down to any one station, format, or genre."   
"Really."   
"Yeah. He's Nashville Ned right now, because the station he's on plays country. But it wasn't too long ago they played jazz, and he was Nocturnal Ned. He's played oldies as Nostalgia Ned, contemporary Christian as Nazareth Ned, heavy metal as Nasty Ned, latin as Noticias Ned, um, that one didn't last too long and he started to learn Spanish right after that."   
"He knows Spanish, then?"   
"Just enough to sound stupid to those who do know it, he says. So what's your preference?"   
  
He'd swerved on her again. "What?"   
"What music do you want? Country, I'm assuming."   
"Oh. Um, do you have DeLectrified?"   
"By Clint Black? Sure." He turned around and busied himself looking for the appropriate selection, which didn't take long. "Good choice, by the way. According to All Music Guide it's his best work in years. Let me guess, you like that duet he does with his wife.", he asked, a smile playing with the corners of his lips.   
"Well yes, that one is ever so sweet, the two of them so much in love. I also like that galaxy song it finishes with."   
Brainy chuckled over that one. "Oh yeah, the Galaxy Song. Whoda thunk it, a country treatment of a Monty Python song."   
"Monty Python? What do they have to do with anything?" Lila asked, puzzled, before her brows lowered and she followed up with another question. "Why do males seem to be fascinated with Monty Python anyway? From what I've seen of it it's ever so crass and crude and perverted and..."   
"And you just answered your own question, Lila. It seems to be hardwired into the male psyche to like the crass, the crude, the perverted, et cetera. Sad and sick, but true, I'm afraid."   
She glared at him. "Et tu, Edward?"   
"A little bit. And don't think the female is immune either. Down deep inside, with a possible exception or two, everyone's a pervert."   
"Gosh, I don't think I am."   
"I did say with a possible exception or two. But you're young yet; it's possible that you don't know everything that's inside of you."   
This made Lila uncomfortable, considering the pleasure she'd already found at certain physical activities, so she changed the subject, or reverted it to where it was before. "So how did something from there wind up as a country song?"   
"Well, it was written by one of the Python troupe, Eric Idle, for one of the Monty Python movies, The Secret Of Life. And like I said there's a bit of a pervert in just about everyone so I guess Mr. Black heard it somewhere and liked it. So he got together with Mr. Idle--"   
"He knows him?"   
"He does now." By now Brainy was standing before the cd player, inserting the cd. "As to before, they got in touch. It's kind of interesting, really. He explained it on that request show he did on that Arts & Bio channel."   
"He must have been the first country artist to do that show."   
"Second, actually. The first was Vince Gill--"   
"Vince Gill?" Lila's face now underwent its best anime impression as her eyes went all starry. "That tall dreamy hunk with the ever so beautiful blue eyes and the oh so adorable dimples and the ever so yummy pearly white smile and--"   
She was interrupted as Brainy addressed the ceiling. "My fault for mentioning him." As she quieted herself, Brainy's line of sight went back to her. "I forgot that most female country fans are in love with either him or Alan Jackson. Just remember, it's talk like that that broke up Gary Chapman & Amy Grant's marriage."   
Lila nodded understanding. "I'll behave."   
Brainy nodded too. "Right. Now, as I was saying, Black explained on that request show that he had a friend who lived in Ohio & had a brother who lived in Los Angeles and worked at a gym, and the brother's partner was fitness trainer for Mr. Idle's wife. So he practically knew the guy." Now Brainy had had enough of explaining; his finger went to the PLAY button. "But enough of this; let's just listen to the music, in the words of the Doobie Brothers."   
  
And they did. And they thoroughly enjoyed it, though I can't honestly say that them moving the couch over to that corner of the room didn't help their enjoyment. They laughed in places, they cried in places, and generally reveled in the sounds and in each other's company. Also, Brainy had brought some Yahoos with him; that might have contributed somewhat to the situation.   
The enjoyment approached its height on the last song, as should be the case. At the appropriate places they both yelled out such things as "I can't take it!" and "Side to side!". And on the bridge before the last verse they actually got up and danced with each other. Word of advice, people: you can overdose on Yahoos, and when you do you do crazy things. That's my public service announcement.   
When the bridge ended and the man started singing again, they flopped back onto the couch, laughing like all get out, as the folks used to say. They even found themselves singing along at the end...   
"...And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space,   
" 'cause I'm afraid that we've been cheated here on Earth!"   
  
The song ended, the two of them threw their heads back onto the couch and laughed, and laughed.   
Finally...   
"Oh, that was ever so silly!"   
"Wasn't it though? heheheheheh, *breathe* mm, ah, but with what we've been talking about we needed a break, I know I did."   
"No argument there."   
They sighed contentedly, and took a bit to gather their thoughts, or just let their thoughts run wild, until Lila broke the silence.   
"Edward?"   
"Hmm?"   
"What do you think; is there intelligent life?"   
"Not on this planet."   
She playfully swatted him. "You know what I mean."   
"Owie!" he commented sillily before shifting his mind back into thought gear. "Yeah, I do. Life on other planets."   
"Do you think it exists?"   
"Do you?"   
"Well, yes. Some people call it God."   
"Ah, yeah. The great debate: God or aliens."   
"What are your thoughts on it?"   
Silence reigned; he was thinking on this one, long and hard. "I don't know. I mean, I'd hate to think that what passes for civilization here is the absolute apex of life in all universes and dimensions. I'd like to think that there's something beyond us, something bigger than ourselves, smarter, stronger. The Unmoved Mover, or whatever. And a lot of people believe that there are aliens next to whom Planet Earth would be a backwater or an obstruction or something to be destroyed if someone decides to put a highway through this part of the cosmos. And those same people, from Sagan on down, would refuse with every fiber of their being to believe in God or a Creator; I guess it's easier for them to believe in aliens."   
Now he was warming to the topic, and getting a bit carried away too. "I try to see both sides of the matter, and I think I succeed at it. I mean, on the one hand it is very easy to believe everything came from creation, but on the other hand it's equally easy to believe it didn't, depending on your mindset, your point of view. What would be a matter of faith to some would be so much hocus pocus to others. On the other hand, who's to say it wouldn't take just as much faith or more to believe the other way seeing there's no proof that things happened either way. On the other hand, maybe things did evolve just the way some say, and for which things having evolved the way they have is all the proof necessary. On the other hand, maybe there's something to be said for the appearance of age theory. On the other hand, that too takes faith. On the other hand, there's so many holes, so many missing links. On the other hand, just because they're missing doesn't mean they don't exist. On the other hand, now who's clinging to pie-in-the-sky? On the other hand, that's exactly what those who cling to the opposite point of view would be expected to say. On the other hand, that doesn't make it untrue, which is the same thing the other side was saying. So it seems both sides are clinging to faith and hokum. On the other hand, at least one side doesn't try to enforce its beliefs on the other side. On the other hand, you could have fooled some as the other side is being taught as fact, not as theory, which it is. On the other hand, there's scientific theory backing that. On the other hand, there seems to be a shutting out of any attempt to theorize on the other side. On the other hand, it's being shut out because it's strictly a matter of faith not of science. On the other hand, have they looked at any of the evidence for the other side? On the other hand--"   
"Edward!" Lila had had enough. "Not even Clydesdales measure that many hands!"   
For once, she had thrown him; he looked at her blankly as he tried to process what she's said. Finally, "Oh, that many HANDS!"   
Now somewhat becalmed, he willed himself to come down from the fever pitch to which he'd driven himself. When he'd gotten control of himself, a question occurred to him.   
"Lila, you're from the country, maybe you'd know; why do they still measure horses in hands?"   
"Um, tradition? Evolution? The last vestige of the time when everything was measured with parts of the body? I don't know. And you're trying to change the subject."   
"Yeah, I guess I am."   
Now she was evaluating him again; now she was the one deep in thought. "Let me guess. The first of summer every year you come to this room, shut yourself in, only come out for meals and other physical needs, sleep in here, and fill the rest of your time with reading, reading, reading?"   
"Huh?"   
"What you've just said is something I'd expect to hear on college campuses."   
"You know you're right?" He pondered, again. "Well, you know that I'm gifted."   
She nodded.   
"And, I don't know, I've always been that way. People used to know that too; I've had the nickname 'Brainy' for as long as I can remember. I've had it for so long, I guess that anymore, people call me that without even wondering why. And even aside from that it's not really inconceiveable that I'd know so much. We get the usual magazines, we have books, sometimes it rains or snows and we have to stay inside; there's not nearly so much reading material at the apartment in town but there is some. And if you'll do some research you'll find that about all the Founding Fathers were still in their teens when they graduated from college, Ivy League colleges! And the courses were far tougher then than they are now; I've seen some of those old readers and there's stuff eighth graders were expected to know that would stymie today's college students. So why couldn't someone know so much in his teens today? Some people make mischief; I make the reading list, in secret of course. I'll participate in group activities like sports or whatever, go to birthday parties, you know, but otherwise..." he trailed off, forgetting where he was. "What were we talking about?"   
"This whole thing started when I asked if you thought there was intelligent life elsewhere."   
"Right. And my answer is, whether it's God or aliens, I hope so." Here his expression noticeably sobered as he started on an angst-filled track. "Because like that song said in the original, it's bugger-off here on Earth."   
He leaped to his feet and started to pace. "I mean look around, Lila. This is a terrible, horrible, spoiled rotten place filled with terrible, horrible, spoiled rotten people. Trust me, you don't want me to get started on this, but..."   
But he had already started. For the next hour and change he rambled on with a blanket indictment of Earth and everyone on it, mankind and all of its many divisions. That he had indeed been reading up on a multitude of subjects came through as he brought up and dressed down both sides of all the hot button issues he could think of. Taxes, war, defense, abortion, gay rights, public education, church state separation, security, degenerating moral values, euthanasia, and so on. And no demographic escaped his scorn either, as he ripped every piece of humanity he could think of. Liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat, fundamentalist or moderate, Orthodox Catholic or Protestant, Jewish Christian Muslim or other, believer or pagan, theist deist or atheist, rich or poor, big business or big government, communist or capitalist, anarchist or totalitarian, lower middle or upper class, the youth or the elderly, male or female, gay or straight, red or yellow black or white, none were worthy in his sight as he went on citing example after example --- some taken straight from recent newspapers --- to run down group after group after group.   
  
Finally, he ran low on gas and flopped back on the couch, breathing as deeply as his asthma would allow to recover his voice.   
Lila had kept quiet through the whole character assassination, but now she addressed him. "Have you had enough?"   
Amid inhaling and exhaling, he nodded.   
"You're quite the Jonathan Swift, aren't you? Loves people, but hates mankind?"   
His breaths got short as he laughed through his nose. "Yeah, I guess so."   
"Edward, if you know what's wrong with the world, why don't you do something about it?"   
"Like what? No one would listen to me; there's nothing anyone hates more than being told they're wrong. And coming from 'Brainy the geek'?" He shook his head. "No Lila, the world is doomed. There's these two basic laws of the universe called the Laws of Thermodynamics. Well, I've figured out the two basic laws of planet earth: Life is unfair, and people don't care. No one cares about anyone or anything but themselves, and those who do, well, that's not of this earth. But the hate and the greed and the laziness and the stubbornness and the abuse of power and the--"   
"So what are you going to do if you're so sure that all is for nothing?"   
"Look for some place no one knows about, go there, and wait for the end where no one will notice me, where I won't bother anyone. I did get 'woodsperson' on that aptitude test; maybe I could make use of that."   
"Maybe take to the sea?"   
"No!" he answered quickly, and definitely.   
"Why so strong on that? It would kind of be in line with the family."   
"That's why. Maybe there's a family bent for the sea; maybe there's also a family bent for living on the wrong side of the law. I don't want to go there. I don't want to go back, only forward."   
"Point taken, again. So what are you going to do? Maybe get a farm somewhere?"   
"Yeah, maybe."   
"Is there anyone you do believe in? Anyone at all?"   
"Precious few. The ones that occupy my mind as being worthy, are Arnold, and Helga's faith in and love for him. Now, those are pure, those alone are worthy. In a way, that's why they have to get together, Lila. That's not all of it --- I've told you my other reasons --- but that is a big part of it. Those two are supposed to be together; they're the last hope humanity has I think. If they get together, his altruism, her belief in him, his dogged determination, her fiery resolve, they can change the world."   
  
Just when she thought she'd become immune to being surprised by Brainy, Lila found herself floored again, at just how much of a cynic yet romantic he could be. And just as well, as now he flashed her a curious glance. It was his turn for questions.   
"So you know Swift? Interesting; most people don't know him for anything but Gulliver in Lilliput. And of those, most wouldn't be able to tell you who wrote it."   
She was silent. But he persisted.   
"You're smart too, Lila. Smart enough that Phoebe once felt threatened by you. They must have a great school in Pleasantville."   
She took in a sharp breath when he mentioned her hometown. Then, as the storm started in earnest outside, another storm began to well up inside her. Symptoms thereof issued from her eyes. "They didn't have a regular school there. It's in that part of the state that the Amish settled, so they educate their own children."   
"And you?"   
"Home school."   
"Wow. I must tell you I've heard good and bad things about that too. An internet buddy of mine works at a home school. He's told me story after story of failing students who once they get their materials including the answers to the tests make hundred after hundred. Their parents are too busy or just can't be bothered with helping them learn, and the students take the easy way out; of course they're in for a rude awakening. Meanwhile, what can the school do."   
"It wasn't that way with me. My parents made sure that I knew everything a girl my age was supposed to know, and then some."   
"And outside activities?"   
"I'd study in the mornings and be outside in the afternoons. Of course there was always work to do, but, um... And then in the evenings there was extra reading. We have all these books at home. All the classics. And Mommy..." she trailed off; this was bordering on too much.   
Of course Brainy noticed. "Lila?"   
"I'll be all right. As I was saying, Mommy, she, she especially would make sure. She'd have me read those books to her, she'd ask me about what I was reading, and somehow, she always managed to make it fun. I guess I didn't know better; I thought learning was fun. I still do."   
She was going downhill fast. Brainy, distraught as he was, tried to do something to ease her pain at the memories. He grabbed her hand and squeezed to let her know a friend was near.   
"That last week, before... there was nothing to do but wait for the end. But she wouldn't have it; she'd have me put some music on, and she'd ask me to read to her, to keep reading until..." Her head slowly swung around, until she was gazing out the window, into the storm. "It was raining then too. There was really nothing else I could do. I read everything, every book in the house to her. I..."   
He put his arm around her. "I'm here, Lila. If you need to cr-"   
"No!" she choked out before determinedly continuing. "When we were getting ready for the move here, we put the books in my hope chest; you know what a hope chest is, right?"   
He nodded.   
"I, I haven't taken them out since we got here. It's too painful, remembering, it's, it's too painful..."   
It was still too painful, too much for her; she broke down under the weight of the memories. She fell onto his shoulder, crying; what could he do but hold her until the storm passed, so to speak.   
  
Which it did, eventually. Brainy held Lila, letting her cry, letting her let out the pent-up emotions. It was the second such situation she had gone through that summer; the other one being with Phoebe at summer's beginning. It was one of the few things about the situation which Brainy didn't know.   
When the flood started to subside, Brainy went into action, wielding his ever-present package of tissues. He tended her, helping her dry her eyes and blow her nose, then he excused himself so he could get her clothes out of the dryer.   
All things considered, the emotional spending of herself coming on top of the rigors of the day, Lila could be excused for doing what she did next, particularly taking into account the fact that the couch was so comfortable. In short, she fell asleep.   
  
================================================================  
  
When Brainy arrived with her clothes a moment later, he found Lila in a fitful sleep. Fitful? Actually, it was a bit chaotic; she was literally tossing and turning, and screaming.   
"Lila?"   
"WHY? WHAT HAVE I DONE? COULD SOMEONE AT LEAST TELL ME WHAT IT WAS I DID? PLEASE!?!"   
He dropped the laundry. "Oh my God. Lila?" Was all he said as he ran as well as he could considering it was just a matter of feet between the door and the couch. "Lila!"   
"NO, PLEASE! I DON'T WANNA GO! I'VE BEEN GOOD, HAVEN'T I? HAVEN'T I BEEN GOOD? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?"   
"LILA!!" Now he was shaking her, desperately trying to get her to wake up. "LILA, WAKE UP!!!"   
"Don't send me down there, don't, I can't, you can't, y-" And as the old line goes, then she woke up.   
But the waking was no more serene than the sleeping had been. She was sniffling, whimpering; in fact as far as Brainy could tell she was on the verge of panic.   
"Lila?"   
" *snif*, *snif*, *sob*, *whine*, uh? Ed- Edward?"   
"I'm here, Lila. You were having a dream, that's all it was, just a dream. You're all right, Lila; you're safe here."   
Her breath staggered as she slowly adjusted to the reality she had known just before her nap. She seemed to freeze for a time, and then she let loose anew, breaking down as she fell on top of him, seizing him in a death grip.   
He found himself having deja vu, but he didn't think of complaining; all he could think about was comforting the fragile girl in his arms. Not knowing what else to do, he rubbed her arms and whispered, "Shh-sh-sh-sh-sh. It's all right, Lila. It was just a dream."   
"It, it was horrible!"   
"Tell me about it, Lila. I've heard that if you tell about your dream you won't have it again; it's worth a try."   
"I was, *sob*, before the Judgment Seat. I was ready to go to Heaven, but there, *sob*, were dozens of Helgas demanding that I go to, to.."   
"The other place?"   
She nodded. " *snif*, and I wasn't really scared, until He made his pronouncement."   
"He? You mean... And he agreed with the Helgas?"   
Another nod. "He said, he said, he said I was conniving and, and manipulative, *snork*, and, and the incarnation of evil. A-, and then the ground opened under me and I, I saw it, Edward! The fire, the heat, the smell, it was all so, so..."   
He could see she was about to blubber again, so he tried to head it off. "It didn't happen, Lila. None of it was real. Just keep telling yourself that." When he was met with silence he thought he'd succeeded. He looked, and found her thinking. "What?"   
"I was just wondering why He had 'C.B.' embroidered on His robe."   
That stymied him. After giving it a deal of thought, if not a great deal, he shrugged it off. "Ah, forget it; strange things happen in dreams."   
  
A few more tissues later, they'd settled down somewhat on the couch, the clothes in the doorway forgotten for the moment.   
"'Miss Perfect'. That's what they call me."   
Brainy was uncomfortable at that turn of the conversation. "Well..."   
"It's not as if you don't know; you mentioned it that first day."   
He sighed. "Yeah, people do call you that."   
"It's as if something's wrong with being nice, with wanting to be a good person."   
He said nothing.   
"I can't help it; it's the way I was raised. All my life my parents have believed, and have taught me, that I should always be nice and, just try to always do right. Are some people so cynical that they cannot accept that?"   
"I guess. To some people, there is no such thing as really being good, really being kind and nice and sweet to everyone; you have to have a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive."   
She let that sink in. "When, Edward? When did it become bad to be good?"   
He shifted his position. "I don't know; probably some time after the 'God is Dead' movement. Rejection of religion, no moral center, no absolute right or wrong, it was just a matter of time until some started thinking that the only wrong was right. Ergo, you're a target, unjust as it is. *sigh* But maybe all of this is just the Yahoo talking, *urp*, uh, excuse me."   
"You're excused," she mumbled, otherwise not moving from where she was.   
  
*BEEP BEEP*   
Brainy let out a groan at the sound; he recognized it of course. Then, with a heavy heart, he checked his watch.   
4:30. Time to start getting ready for the trip back to Hillwood.   
*sigh*, "It's time."   
*sigh*   
"I know, but what can we do; time waits for no one."   
So saying, he got up. Facing the doorway, he saw her clothes which he had dropped. He strode to the doorway, picked them up, and returned. "Here's your clothes. I'll, uh, go get the boat ready. You know the, way out, uh, and uh, don't, worry about the bathrobe, you can leave it where it, where it is."   
Her mind was on him, but her eyes weren't. Appearing to daydream, she nevertheless heard him as she nodded absently. He then left again.   
He walked, and puttered; she dressed, and walked; both in utter silence.   
"Darned training bra."   
Well, pretty much.   
  
How can people be so heartless?   
How can people be so cruel?   
Easy to be hard, easy to be cold.   
  
================================================================  
  
Meanwhile, at 4040 Vine Street...   
"So I'll see you in a while, Gerald."   
"All right. Later, man."   
"And you be careful out in that storm."   
*click*   
"So, Hair Boy go home?"   
Arnold turned from the back door to face the one who was becoming his other best friend. "Helga, I am home."   
"Huh?" Then she got it; slight frustration was duly added. "Not you, Hair Boy, I meant the other Hair Boy! Doi!"   
She crossed her arms and turned away, trying to avoid his famous half-smile.   
"Yeah. He had to get home a little earlier today. Aside from the weather, there's something special going on for his family at their church tonight. Jamie O. goes up to the U. tomorrow, so this is his last day here. There's some sort of sendoff planned at church, one of their young men going on, you get the picture."   
"Yeah, I do. And you're going, too?"   
"Sure."   
"Strange, I'd peg you to be more likely to want to escape from church."   
"I am, but it's more a family thing. And where Gerald's family goes to church is cool. Oh, plus a potluck at these things is standard after the service."   
"Ooh, never pass up free food, right?"   
"Why not, I am a teenager now."   
"Mm."   
"I guess they'd accept an extra if you wanted to come."   
"For Geraldo's brother? Talk about a double negative. Nah, it's not enough notice, raining, give me some time I'll come up with some more excuses."   
"No, you made your point. Anyway, ready for this week?"   
"We've gone over and over that, footballhead."   
"Oh yeah."   
An uncomfortable silence ensued.   
"So," Helga started, "I guess I'd better be getting home."   
"Bad weather for walking."   
"I brought a raincoat."   
"True. Did you bring an umbrella?"   
"Um, no."   
"Then I'll walk with you."   
"You don't have to do that, most of the way is by bus anyway."   
"I know I don't have to do it, I want to do it."   
"Well, thanks, I guess."   
Arnold smiled, but the smile soon faded as he started thinking. "Have we done this before?"   
"What?"   
"I was just having this feeling of deja vu."   
"Hmm, there's a lot of that going around." she muttered, before saying, "Um, I don't know. If we have I've forgotten."   
Arnold processed this bit of non-information, shrugged, then flashed one of his famous half-smiles. Turning, he said to Helga, "Just let me find my raincoat and umbrella, and I'll be right back."   
"Okkay, don't take too long, footballhead."   
By now he was sprinting for the stairs. "I won't. Don't go anywhere without me!"   
And now he was out of earshot. So, Helga turned over in her mind all the meanings of his last sentence. "Oh you footballhead, if I could I'd never go anywhere without you, for life. *sigh* " She then caught herself, but this time she didn't slap herself. Arnold wouldn't like it if she did. She waited for him. And his umbrella. The more things change...   
  
How can people have no feelings?   
How can they ignore their friends?   
Easy to be proud, easy to say 'no'.   
  
================================================================  
  
Not much was said on the boat ride, but Lila wanted to. So did Brainy, really. But neither one did; they couldn't, or so they thought.   
Finally, when they were almost there...   
"Edward?"   
"Huh?"   
"There's something I've been thinking about..."   
*HONK HONK*   
Brainy's attention was arrested. "That would be your father." He checked his watch. "4:55 by me; guess he wanted to get here early, and who can blame him."   
"Mm." Lila sighed, her chance having passed. But now Brainy had pulled up to the dock. As if he was running from something, he bounded up the ladder and tied the boat to the dock. He then reached down for her hand. She reached up for his hand, and in due course was also on solid ground, so to speak.   
  
Especially people who care about strangers,   
Who care about evil and social injustice.   
Do you only care about the bleeding crowd?   
How about a needing friend?   
I need a friend.   
  
Neither Arnold nor Helga had much to say on the bus, really. If one was to scan their minds, one would find pretty much the same opinion, that anything said would in some way damage whatever it was they were experiencing. So they didn't dare.   
But that had to have an end, if only the end of the bus line. But before that happened...   
"Here's my stop."   
"Let me get off first, so I can have the umbrella ready."   
She nodded, and he was as good as his word. From the time she left the shelter of the bus roof, to the time they were at her door, not one drop fell on her. She beamed, basking in the warmth and security she felt from Arnold and his umbrella, warmth and security a decade in the making.   
  
How can people be so heartless?   
You know I'm hung up on you.   
Easy to be proud, easy to say 'no'.   
  
The Sawyer's car drove off into the night, toward their house, and thence to church. Lila chose to sit in the back seat. She practically plastered herself against the rear window, watching until Brainy was out of sight.   
  
Especially people who care about strangers,   
Who care about evil & social injustice.   
Do you only care about the bleeding crowd?   
How about a needing friend?   
We all need a friend.   
  
"Here we are."   
"I can see that, Arnold."   
"Helga, no one else here? It's all right?"   
*sigh* "I'm sorry, Arnold. You've been wonderful, and you don't deserve that."   
"It must be hard to keep being tough, when you're really so much more than that."   
"Yeah, well, I'm still tough, Arnoldo, don't you ever doubt that..."   
"I believe you."   
"...but I do appreciate what you're saying."   
"Um, yeah."   
"Yeah."   
silence   
"I guess I should get inside. And you'd better get going if you don't want to be late for that service whatever."   
"I guess."   
"It's just too bad I never got a crack at Geraldo's brother; it might have been interesting."   
"Helga..."   
"Hey, I'm kidding, Arnoldo. Give'em my regards."   
"Okkay. See you."   
"Bye, Arnold."   
"Bye, Helga."   
*click*   
  
How can people be so heartless?   
How can people be so cruel?   
Easy to be proud, easy to say 'no'.   
Easy to be cold, easy to say 'no'.   
  
That evening, at two houses several miles apart, Brainy and Helga went through the motions with their respective families.   
At the same time, in two churches, Arnold and Lila were also engaged in activities. They were trying to fully participate, but their hearts just weren't in it.   
Four people with their heads somewhere else, four hearts at crises.   
  
Come on, easy to give in, easy to say 'no'.   
Easy to be cold, easy to say 'no'.   
  
There was much to think about that night. Arnold in the boarding house, Helga in the brownstone, Lila in the apartment, Brainy in the mansion, all had trouble getting to sleep that night.   
Something was coming. None of them had full knowledge of the events that were soon to unfold, but all felt them coming, and all were grieved at the aches the knowledge of the uncertainties caused. And at their feelings toward their close friends.   
Arnold and Helga. Brainy and Lila.   
Four heads finally fell to sleep.   
Four troubled sleeps.   
  
Much too easy to say 'no'. 


	22. Countdown

Finally, finally, FINALLY! here is the next chapter. Wow, that was a long 'interlude', wasn't it? Seriously, I am sorry that I've kept y'all waiting so long. things have been happening to me irl, from sudden loss of documents I hadn't saved to deaths of relatives, you name it; and when I did get back to my fics there was something else I felt had to be gotten out of the way first, and dealing with that alone took a month or two. But y'all aren't interested in excuses; y'all are interested in the next chapter, which here is.   
  
That, and the feedback to the reviews:   
  
Thank you, savagemind. That I can leave you speechless like this kind of leaves me speechless too.   
  
Thanks, Miss Matched. Eh, no need to turn in your "Brainy's Lovers" membership card; you don't see anyone else doing it. And as soon as I recover from that beating, I'll thank you properly. Hey, maybe you'll do a Brainy fic of your own; I've seen your writings and am impressed. Not to mention that awards thingy, and that's from someone who's been in on a number of internet awards shows. Thanks for the nomination.   
  
Thank you, Helga243. Hmm, I figured all of these Helga fangirls were clones ;)   
  
Thanks, Review Guy. I see I'm having that effect on another, which is having kind of an effect on me. I guess now I'll have to go read 'Earthbound', if I can find the time.   
  
Thank you, TaDah. And if you thought THAT 'interlude' was huge...   
  
Thanks, Snow Lane. Yes, there is reason in all things - at least in what I write - and such is the case with not getting you know who and you know who together just yet. I'm a believer in delayed gratification being all the more sweet when it finally comes. Thanks for not hating Lila anymore.   
  
Briana LuvsFBH, you might want to take a few deep breaths here. Seriously, thank you very much; your enthusiasm is overwhelming. To paraphrase an old saying, the details bedevil me, so much trouble do I go to to get them right. Dr. Bliss will be back, and that's all I'll say about it right now. Yes, this story does kind of write itself; I can see the whole thing, kind of, and I really do feel it. In more than a few ways I kind of identify with Brainy, and with other characters. And I'm sorry I made you wait for so long.   
  
Thanks, ChickenGoddess. Glad you caught the C.B. thing.   
  
Paradox, I thank you again for your insights. Yes, I've been on the boards, doing that Episode Notes thing on the Episodes section. If you'll look there you'll find that I have been dissecting every episode in the first season (other seasons - coming soon) scene by scene. I try to look for things others miss and call attention to them. I agree with your analysis of Lila; wouldn't surprise me a bit if CB & Co. had exactly that in mind. I do try to look at things from other perspectives, although I'm still having trouble working my mind around some pov's, maybe that just means I'm human. I believe the song you have in mind is Bus Stop by the Hollies ("Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'. But stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows, under my umbrella." And so on.). I hadn't noticed that about the Cheese Festival; now that I have I see what you mean. Maybe that was a shallower part; they were just a few feet from 'shore'. Although it wouldn't make much sense to have the water deep enough to swim in in a ride that will be taken apart the next day, especially one children will ride on. Yes, Lila will deal with some issues, starting here. And I see your point about Miriam too, although the context for that statement she made was a bit different. YOU'RE verbose? Don't worry about over-analyzing; that's my job.   
  
Stoned Carson, thanks. I do appreciate that so many people take the time to tell me what they think, so I consider it my duty to respond to every one of them. You're right; there is much to be read into HA!, which I think is also what CB & Co. had in mind. There's much happening in the background if one knows where to look. And I'm glad you're coming around on Lila. And Arnold and Helga are about to come to the fore, especially with school about to start again.   
  
Thank you, lildreamer. I am keeping it up.   
  
Um, Sock, er, Tano, uh, whatever you want to call yourself, thanks. I really don't know what to say but thanks.   
  
Thank you, Sleather Chonkers. I'm always glad to hear from the board veterans. There are other ways to look at what we see on the show, as many pov's as there are characters there. As to the puberty stuff, well, they are getting to be that age aren't they? And I've always been sympathetic toward Lila; I think it was pretty clearly implied that her mother died back in Pleasantville and that she and her father had to move to the big city in part because of that. Oh, and you're welcome.   
  
Thanks, J.T. Hey, as continually as you've been reviewing I couldn't overlook a review from you no matter how many reviews I get.   
  
Thank you, humble. Don't worry; there's plenty to come. There's some foreshadowing here. And there's a ST:TNG ref here, try to pick it out. Yes, we are on opposite side on politics and religion, but I don't let that keep me from being friends. I try to see all sides; I must admit finding all sides of all issues wanting, but I have made my choice. Ghosts? Hmm, well, there's the Holy Ghost... I think I'm getting to the Lila-haters one by one. And I'm sorry I made you squirm, although maybe it wasn't just me. I have this saying: At least once in one's lifetime, one should take a good, long, hard look at everything one believes and ask oneself, 'What if I'm wrong?' Well, that's all I'm going to say about that. Peace, love and happiness to you too.   
  
And thanks to my Filipino friend zali. Hmm, what do you mean 'a guy like you'? ;) Yeah, Arnold and Helga do have this link. This was seen in the series, like when Helga screams and Arnold hears it but Gerald doesn't. And since that first day at the park it's deepened and developed. And thanks for the advice about the milk.   
  
Thank you, purplepincushion. Another one notices the C.B. reference and liked it. Well, he is the creator of the series, so...   
  
Thanks also go out to raindrop rae23. You got what I was going for with the apparently meaningless stuff. It will all tie together before all is said and done. I do strive for quality, sometimes at the cost of getting it in on time. Why, I spent the past couple of days looking at episodes to get the floor plans of the various characters' room down right. Not that I can or should blame that for this being so late, which I don't. And i'm glad that you agree about Lila.   
  
Thank you, chewy. I appreciate your suggestion, and I will consider it.   
  
And thanks beady. You're not the only one who will not review until the end of the fic *winks at a certain yardbird*. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so mean. I'm not really mean or nasty, just thoughtless and insensitive. *Kokoshka laugh* Um, here it is.   
  
Oh, and Houkanno Yuuhou? You wanted more Shakespeare? You got more Shakespeare.   
  
Hey Arnold! and all properties thereof are created by, copyright, and / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.   
  
Kirk Gibson is copyright himself.   
  
The Anaheim Angels are owned by the Walt Disney Corporation and are copyrighted by that corporation and / or Major League Baseball. Other major league baseball teams are copyright their respective owners and / or MLB.   
  
The Chronicles of Narnia and all properties thereto are copyright the estate of C.S. Lewis. The Silver Chair is copyright 1953 by Colliers / MacMillan Publishing.   
  
Shakespearean quotations are courtesy of The Riverside Shakespeare, Houghton-Mifflin, 1974.   
  
Other authors named are copyright themselves, if they were smart.   
  
Amish are copyrighted to the various Amish congregations, although they might not believe in such things, in which case we should really leave copyrighting it alone.   
  
Court TV is copyright Coutroom Television Network LLC.   
  
Morris chair is copyright someone I'm sure, but I have no idea by whom.   
  
Archie Comics is copyright itself.   
  
Homicide is copyright Barry Levinson / Tom Fontana and NBC (a unit of RCA), and is based on the Edgar award-winning book by David Simon.   
  
  
  
Friday, 4:55 P.M.   
  
*CRACK!*   
  
The bat held by the member of the opposing team sang out as it caught the meat of the ol' horsehide, sending it soaring up, up, up...   
  
All right, so it wasn't that dramatic. It was still en route to being a home run, going as high as a ball could go and still be playable within the friendly confines of Gerald Field. This would mean the ballgame. With the Angels up by one, and one man on, this home run would score the tying and winning runs for the opposition. Not a way one would want to end the summer, but what could one do; it was headed straight for right field with no one in a position to even come close to catching it except, well, the right fielder, who else? And that would be...   
  
*Liiii-la!* Helga muttered under her breath, her catchers mask already off in her hand. *No, not the farm girl, not Miss Perfect.* She wasn't certain whether it would be worse to take a loss in the last game that summer, or to have her perceived rival be the hero of the game.   
  
*Wait*, she continued to think, *what am I worried about? She's no athlete. So, we'll lose the game; oh well.*   
  
But while Helga was distracted by her thoughts, out in right field, Lila had jumped up against the fence, glove held up high...   
  
...and she caught it.   
  
All right, so it seems like a Hollywood-ish ending to a baseball game; sometimes these things really happen, like Kirk Gibson's home run in the '88 series. Sometimes the home team, the one we're all rooting for, wins the last game of the, um, summer; one couldn't say season because that would mean the team was in an organized league or something. The summer had been nothing like that; teams had formed around friends who were used to each other and who like the game and each other enough to play together on a continuing basis. Or in such cases as this one, the force of someone's personality prevailed to whip up a team from among the acquaintances of said personality; in this case, the personality of Helga G. Pataki. That was it. Sandlot ball in its purest form, which meant no leagues or trophies or anything.   
  
But we digress. To reiterate, Lila caught the ball, saving the game for the Angels, to a little bit of chagrin from Helga who was of two minds about the situation. Fortunately she was influenced via peer pressure to focus on the positive; she even joined in carrying Lila off the field, if only to make sure that Arnold didn't have any physical contact with Miss Perfect.   
  
It was a good ending to a good game, and apart from the opposing team and their entourage, everyone thought so. The players were to say the least in quite a good mood. And so were their families, who had come to catch the last game, even the Patakis. Yes, Olga had managed to drag the parental units to Gerald Field, where Big Bob was silently congratulating himself for reconsidering his decision to build his beeper emporium where he had just seen his younger daughter's team's moment of glory. Curiously, although not so much so to those in the know, she appeared to ignore his declarations of how she was always a winner just like he'd taught her, but maybe the less said about that the better.   
  
As has been stated, the kids and their families were in a good mood. And the families of the kids themselves weren't the only ones who stepped forth to offer congratulations.   
  
"Hey, Arnie!"   
  
"Coach?"   
  
Yes, it was Coach Wittenberg, both of them...   
  
"Hey."   
  
...with their son Tucker in tow.   
  
After the usual pleasantries...   
  
"Arnie, we've been watching the game, that whole competition that just concluded, situationally speaking, and I gotta tell ya the strategery was..."   
  
While Coach Wittenberg, male, went on talking about whatever it was he was talking about; Coach Wittenberg, female, gravitated toward Helga. The two strong-willed pink ladies had a bit of a tete-a-tete.   
  
"So, Helga, congratulations."   
  
"Thanks, Tish."   
  
"I guess you're glad you put Lila in right field after all."   
  
"Wha-? What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"   
  
"You're kidding, right? First, we both know it's the catcher who runs the team; second, you've been on my teams before and we know that you're a natural-born leader; third, I noticed the name."   
  
"The Angels?"   
  
"Same name --- Helga's Angels in fact --- that you attached to the name of that bowling team you were on? MY bowling team?"   
  
Helga remembered that. "Yeah."   
  
"Therefore we can conclude that you, Helga G. Pataki, were the team leader; i.e., that you pretty much made all of the decisions about who did what, where, and when."   
  
"What can I say?"   
  
"There's nothing to say; it's your dominant personality. It's the same with me."   
  
"There's a shocker." Helga couldn't help but notice as Coach Wittenberg, male, momentarily got a bit more animated than usual. "He seems to be happy."   
  
Tish looked behind her toward her husband. "Jack? Yeah, well, you know how he is; nothing's more important to him than winning."   
  
"Except for you, Tish."   
  
"Sweet of you to say so; what do you want?"   
  
They both had a bit of a laugh over that.   
  
"But seriously, Tish..."   
  
"Yeah, you're right. I gotta admit, since he discovered his sensitive side, Coach has mellowed a little. Not that he'd ever admit that. And I've been working on him too. Would you believe he can actually look at our son now and see a human being, not a body in a sporting contest --- even if he is the star, or supposed to be?"   
  
"You mean Tucker? Is that him?"   
  
"Yeah, that's him. That's right; you've never met him, have you?"   
  
"No I haven't."   
  
"You want I should introduce you?"   
  
"Maybe later."   
  
Later would be a good idea; as it was, Tucker was a bit busy catching up with old friends Gerald and Stinky...   
  
"Yeah, it looks good. You guys built this field yourself?"   
  
"Well, I didn't on account of I wasn't there at the time, but I reckon Gerald did. I hear it was kinda his idea."   
  
"Mine and Arnold's."   
  
"Is that why it's called 'Gerald Field'?"   
  
"Yeah! Just say it: 'Gerald Field'."   
  
"Yeah, I see what you mean."   
  
"'Gerald Field'. Sounds good to me."   
  
"Yeah. Thanks, Stinky."   
  
"So, who else was involved? It looks like a professional job."   
  
"That's just because the grownups forced us out the second day this field existed, then we put 'em on a guilt trip so they fixed it back for us the next day. Now let's see, there was Harold, and Sheena, and Eugene, and-"   
  
"And Helga?"   
  
" *sigh* And Helga, and Brainy, and-"   
  
"And Robert."   
  
"Right, and Robert, and... Robert?"   
  
Gerald turned around to see who had spoken, and found himself face to face with the person who had just spoken his very name; curly blond hair, glasses and all.   
  
"Robert! Where have you been?"   
  
"Oh, around. While you guys were doing those projects, the rest of us had the reading list. So we had plenty of time for street ball."   
  
"Man! It's like since you guys switched classes, you just disappeared!"   
  
"You know you're always welcome to join the game. Some of us prefer street ball." Now Robert turned his attention to Tucker. "So, how have things been going in Arizona?"   
  
"Okkay. here?"   
  
"Fine."   
  
"Wait," Gerald interrupted, "you two have been keeping in touch?"   
  
"Sure." Tucker confirmed. "When I had to go back to boarding school after the YMAA league season ended, we traded addresses. He keeps me up with what's happening with Frankie and Ravi and them."   
  
"I reckon I coulda done that if I hadn't have found so much interestin' stuff to do with Harold and Sid." Stinky thought out loud.   
  
To Gerald's amusement. "Our local attempt at a gang." he winked at the others, jerking a thumb in Stinky's direction.   
  
The reunion is interrupted, courtesy of Tucker's father. "Hey, Tucker! Come on over here, and bring your friends with you."   
  
" *sigh* Yes, Dad."   
  
"He all right with you now?" Gerald asked as they walked over to where the coach was.   
  
Tucker shrugged. "Winning's not everything to him anymore, if that's what you mean. And he's not constantly pressuring me anymore, not since he and Mom got back together."   
  
"I still can't believe you weren't here for their second wedding." Robert said.   
  
"Blows my mind." Gerald agreed.   
  
Again, Tucker shrugged. "It was a spur of the moment thing, and I couldn't get a flight up here in time. It's no big deal. I wasn't there for their first wedding either."   
  
"I reckon that's a right mature way to be a-lookin' at things."   
  
By now, the Wittenbergs had assembled together as a family. Between them, they'd assembled all of the Angels as well as a couple of friends or other hangers-on. Jack Wittenberg was now about to give a speech.   
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, as what passes around here for the first family of athletic entitlements, it was recumbent upon us - the Wittenbergs - to do something toward fostering independent athletic activity around here. With that in mind, we've been observing local independent goings-on over the course of the summer, competitionally speaking-"   
  
"Jack." Tish nudged.   
  
"Hm? Oh, yes. As I was saying, several of our colleagues and we have been observing things and we have colluded that you, the Angels, have had the best season of any local independent athletic congregation hereabouts, locally speaking; and that, therefore, you, the Angels, are the unofficial independent youth champions!"   
  
Whatever the clarity of the circumstances, when kids hear that they're champions, they have a typical reaction: one of happiness. Such was the reaction now.   
  
When the applause and cheers had died down, Helga was quick to get down to business. "So what does that mean? Do we get a trophy?"   
  
Immediately Jack started to sweat. "Well, no..."   
  
"A ribbon?" Phoebe inquired.   
  
"Well, no..."   
  
"Rings?" That was from Gerald.   
  
"Uh... you got fifty cents?"   
  
Arnold had, as usual, been trying to think of a way out of a dilemma. He thought he had it, or at least he hoped he did. "Well, how about treating the team to ice cream at Slausen's?"   
  
Jack looked at Tish, who nodded. "Good thinking, Arnie." he finished with a wink and a point toward his addressee.   
  
5:21 P.M.   
  
Ice cream at Slausen's it was. It only took seconds for word to spread; within one minute the stampede toward the local ice cream eatery was on. There was no worry on the part of the unofficial youth independent champion Angels; certain grownups would be footing the bill. Although considering how much a bunch of twelve and thirteen year olds could put away - especially the sixteen-going-on-seventeen Harold - the Wittenbergs and their colleagues would be sure to opt in the future for the seemingly more expensive traditional rewards.   
  
At the entrance, Arnold - ever the gentleman - held the door open for the others. Eventually, Lila came to the door. Other than baseball, this was really the first time they had met since she had given him the heave-ho. Uncomfortability hung in the air, although the two good hearts tried to ignore it and make small talk.   
  
"Um, Lila."   
  
"Hello, Arnold."   
  
"Hi."   
  
"That was a good game you had."   
  
"Thanks, although it was your play that won it for us."   
  
"Not just my play; I'm oh so certain that it was the last play of the game and if it hadn't been for you-"   
  
"All right, out of my way! One side! Move it!" was the unmistakeable sound of Helga G. Pataki establishing to one and all who was boss.   
  
In no time she was at the door, where after a panicked examination of the situation she quickly took charge. "Move it or lose it, Footballhead!"   
  
A by-now-jaded Arnold's eyelids fell to half staff as he fell into the old game Helga still liked to play in public. "Whatever you say, Helga."   
  
"That's right; whatever I say." Helga hmphed as Arnold passed her into Slausen's. "Hmph, annoying little smartypants-" She cut herself off as she notice Lila staring at her again, staring That Stare. "What are YOU looking at?"   
  
"I'm not sure."   
  
Fed up, Helga grabbed Lila by the arm and pulled her with her into the nearest alley.   
  
"What are you doing to me, Lila? What are you trying to do to me?"   
  
"Why, I have no idea what you mean, Helga."   
  
"Don't play dumb with me! You've been staring at me like that all summer, ever since you... you PUSHED me!"   
  
"I'm ever so sorry for that, Helga."   
  
"No you're not."   
  
Now it was Lila's turn for eyelids to go to half staff as she adaped a serious mien. "Is this about that little matter that you mentioned once in connection with strangling me with your bare hands?"   
  
Helga flinched. "You know it is."   
  
"Helga, I have not done anything to try to interfere with you-know-what."   
  
"So why have you been looking at me like that?"   
  
"I've just been wondering when you'd do anything about it."   
  
"I'm not READY to do that! I've tried to tell the truth, several times. I actually did it once, and neither of us could handle it. We're not ready!"   
  
"You're both teenagers now. If you're not ready by now..."   
  
"You're not going to try anything are you?"   
  
"Oh, no, I'M not. Believe me, Helga, you have no reason whatsoever to be angry with me."   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
Two heads turned in varying degrees of shock and even panic, to see their mutual friend at the opening of the alleyway.   
  
"Phoebe?"   
  
"Helga? Lila? What are you doing here?"   
  
"Um, well,..."   
  
"We needed to talk about some personal matter, a matter we didn't think shouuld risk being overheard."   
  
"Yeah, what she said."   
  
"Phoebe, could you give us another minute?"   
  
"Very well, Lila." Phoebe stepped back and let Helga and Lila have some privacy.   
  
Of which Lila, for once, was quick to take advantage. "As I was saying-"   
  
"Who cares what you're saying, anyway? Not me!" And with that, Helga was about to storm out of there, when the unthinkable happened: Lila actually blocked her path.   
  
"Out of my way, farm girl!"   
  
"Not until you've heard me out." Lila did not know where this store of resolve came from, but too much was on the line for her to not say what she had to say to Helga. "Helga, I told you that you have no reason to be angry with me. But if you simply must be angry, I have a candidate who would be ever so perfect." Her eyes narrowed a second time.   
  
"Someone once wrote something on a wall. Whoever it was wrote the words 'Arnold Loves Lila'. I read those words and thought Arnold loved me-"   
  
"What, no 'like like'?"   
  
Lila ignored Helga, blindly pushing on. "I thought Arnold loved me, so I started to spend every minute with him. Finally, he told me that he had never loved me. I was crushed, but I got over it. But there was an unintended consequence: the time I'd spent with him had planted seeds in him which blossomed into love for me. By then I no longer loved him and had convinced myself that I had never really loved him; it was the idea of being in love with him. And so things had continued until the beginning of this summer, which was when I started trying to fix things between us. Do you want to hate someone, Helga? You go find who wrote those words on that wall, and you go hate that person, for your hate is wasted on me."   
  
Her speech completed, Lila now stepped aside. Helga looked at her like she'd just been shot - although not by her - then slapped herself back into shape, so to speak. She stalked up the alley and into the street, where she hung a corner toward Slausen's. "Phoebe!"   
  
"Coming." Phoebe responded. But before she lived up to her word, she looked back at Lila, who was now within speaking distance. "What was that about?"   
  
Lila sighed. "About ten minutes of wasted effort, I'm afraid."   
  
Phoebe moaned. "Oh no. I'm starting to wonder if even Brainy can pull this off."   
  
"I don't know. If he can't, God help us all."   
  
"Amen."   
  
"PHOEBE!"   
  
"You'd better go with your friend." Lila advised.   
  
Phoebe nodded, then took off, catching up to Helga in time to accompany her into Slausen's.   
  
As they walked through the ice cream parlor they passed several tables. Typically, it was at the most easily overlooked table that Brainy sat, just picking at his ice cream while staring off into nothing.   
  
Presently - and unexpectedly, for him - someone noticed him. A female someone. Someone who walked over to his table.   
  
"Hello, Brainy."   
  
"Eh, huh?"   
  
"May I join you?"   
  
"Uh, okkay."   
  
So she sat down.   
  
"Uh, nougat?"   
  
"Thanks."   
  
By the time she got to the counter, Helga was alone; Phoebe had seen Gerald and had excused herself. She was stewing by her lonesome at the counter, when a very familiar shadow fell across her face.   
  
"Can I buy you an ice cream?"   
  
Helga *pff*ed. "You stupid footballhead, we're not paying for any of this!"   
  
She then looked at him, just in time to see his eyebrows wiggling.   
  
She looked away. "Please, don't; I have an image." she mumbled, just loud enough for him and no one else to hear.   
  
Arnold sat down next to her. "Look, Helga, you look like you need cooling off. What better way to do that than with ice cream?"   
  
Helga looked back at him. "I hate it when you're right." And with a small smile in his direction, she then turned her attention to the currently empty space behind the counter. "Hey! What do we have to do to get some service around here?"   
  
Arnold smiled at her.   
  
"Sheena, are you sure this is all right?"   
  
"It's all right, Eugene. Trust me."   
  
"I do but, I'm not even sure if it's legal."   
  
"Eugene..."   
  
"Eugene, you don't have to worry about that. Simmons and I discussed this at length, and in detail. I made certain that there would be nothing left to chance."   
  
"You hear that, Eugene? Lorenzo knows what he's talking about. So don't worry."   
  
"I still don't know..."   
  
Meanwhile, Lila had finally walked in, and was in for a bit of a surprise.   
  
"Brainy?"   
  
"Uh, hi?" Brainy started to sweat.   
  
"Hello, Lila."   
  
"Hello, Nadine. Whatever are you doing here?"   
  
"Just catching up with an old friend."   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Yes. You know, aside from being best friends with Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, I'm pretty much of a geek myself, and I try to keep in touch with 'geeks', although sometimes according to Rhonda that's pretty much everyone. Besides, my insects like his nougats; he keeps them supplied."   
  
"Well, that sounds nice."   
  
About then, Nadine started to feel out of place. "Oh, I'm sorry. You two are doing that project thing together, aren't you? I'd better go see what trouble Sid and Rhonda are getting into. If any." She hastily added as she made a graceful exit.   
  
Lila sat down in the chair Nadine had just vacated; she could feel the warmth in the seat. "So, Ed-"   
  
Brainy went into a coughing fit, which caused Lila to remember. "Oh dear, I'm sorry."   
  
"Heh, it's all right." he breathed.   
  
"So, what do... huh?" Lila cut herself off as Brainy slid a folded sheet of paper across to him.   
  
"I don't understand; do you want me to read what's in here?"   
  
Brainy nodded, still breathing heavily, as was his wont. "Yeah."   
  
"I see."   
  
The ice cream came. Arnold had his usual, and Helga had...   
  
"Strawberry? I thought you were allergic."   
  
"Go figure. I am allergic to strawberries, but I can handle strawberry ice cream just fine. Weird, isn't it?"   
  
"Not really. Maybe it's just the strawberry seeds you're allergic to."   
  
"Hmm, maybe."   
  
"It's been known to happen. Stinky once told me about this guy his folks knew back in Arkansas. He's allergic to tomatoes, but he has no problem with spaghetti sauce or ketchup. I guess it's in the processing; something they do to it must remove the seeds or whatever other, um..."   
  
"Allergens?"   
  
"Yeah, right, allergens." Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Helga."   
  
Helga cast at Arnold a sidelong smile of her own. "I'm the one who should be thanking you, Arnold." She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. "I don't know how I'd have made it through this summer without you."   
  
Arnold turned serious, a state of being into which he always puts his whole heart. "I'll always be there for you, Helga." he whispered. "I want you to remember that."   
  
Helga almost beamed. Almost.   
  
Almost, because just then, Harold stuck his not-quite-as-fat-as-it-used-to-be face into the situation. "Hey, look, AH-nold and Heeeeel-ga are sittin' together!"   
  
The situation could have been disastrous. It was just the sort of thing guaranteed to cause Mount St. Helga to erupt with an explosion that would have done credit to the Cascades.   
  
Sid and Stinky were with Harold too, wouldn't you know it; but before they or anyone else could get started they noticed another sizeable shadow falling across their field of view. They knew that shadow. They found it unsettling.   
  
"Hello."   
  
Harold turned around quickly, very quickly. He knew that voice, very well.   
  
"P-patty?"   
  
"Hello, Harold. Heheheheheheh."   
  
"Uh, hi, Patty."   
  
Patty smiled in Harold's direction, but when she looked at his friends her expression changed. "Don't you have something to do?"   
  
Sid and Stinky gulped. They had not forgotten how they had teased Harold about losing to Patty, and they imagined that she hadn't forgotten it either.   
  
"Uh, I guess I could find something to do."   
  
"I reckon I could be at home a-tendin' my crops."   
  
"Good. Why don't you do that?" Patty intoned. At both of them.   
  
"I'm a leavin'."   
  
"Yeah, me too."   
  
They were out of Patty's sight as quickly as they could move.   
  
The look Brainy presented to Lila was its usual blankness, which frustrated her. With no other option, she opened the paper.   
  
*What did Eleanor Blackiston hear Adela Pennyfather say about Eustace Scrubb?*   
  
Scratching her head, she again faced her inscrutable colleague. "'Eustace Scrubb'? As in Narnia?"   
  
Brainy nodded.   
  
"But what does that have to do with anything?"   
  
Brainy said nothing; he merely changed the direction in which he was looking.   
  
Lila, turning, followed his line of sight ...straight to the counter where Harold was sitting.   
  
She turned back. "Harold has something to do with this?"   
  
He nodded again.   
  
"But what? What connection can he possibly have with the works of C.S. Lewis?"   
  
And she got nothing, nothing but that infuriating blankness.   
  
Thoughts of their conversation the previous Sunday came back to her. Then, with a sigh that accompanied a fallen expression, she fixed him in a dangerous glare. "You're going to make me unpack those books I told you about, aren't you?"   
  
Another nod. "Uh, yeah."   
  
"So, Harold. Buy a girl an ice cream?" she asked with the familiarity an almost-girlfriend would show only to her almost-boyfriend (and don't you DARE intimate such a relationship around either of them, or worse yet around BOTH of them).   
  
"Um, Patty, I guess you haven't heard. Some grownups are paying for all of this."   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Yeah. They figured that our team was the best at something, so they're buying for the whole team."   
  
"But Harold, I'm not on the team."   
  
"Oh yeah."   
  
"So what I eat here wouldn't be paid for."   
  
"Uh, yeah, I guess."   
  
"So...?"   
  
"Um, hey!" he yelled behind the counter, "Could you give her something? I'll pay for it!"   
  
So Patty placed her order. As they settled down to wait for it, she flashed a surreptitious wink where Arnold and Helga could catch it.   
  
Out of sight, but not so far away that they couldn't see what was going on, Sid and Stinky looked on.   
  
"Boy howdy, Harold's got it bad."   
  
"Well, I reckon we all are gonna be doin' that eventually."   
  
"Not me, Stinko. I'll never... uh, I'll be right back." Sid suddenly took off.   
  
Stinky looked where he was going and saw Rhonda and Nadine at a table in Sid's direction. He had a little laugh at that.   
  
With their orders, Arnold and Helga had decided to have milkshakes. Arnold held his aloft, then out toward Helga in the form of a toast.   
  
"To the Angels."   
  
"To the Angels." she returned the toast.   
  
As they were slurping on their straws, Helga noticed an expression on Arnold's face with which she was familiar - granted, that could be any expression as much of a study as she had made of his face over the years. But this time she noticed that he was thinking.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I was just wondering if the success of our Angels is a good sign for the success of the major league Angels?"   
  
Helga the sports fan couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?!? You mean you think Anaheim will win in the playoffs? The World Series, even?"   
  
"Well, why not?"   
  
"This just in, Arnold: The only place the Angels will ever win the World Series is in that movie their corporate parent put out a few years ago, just before they bought the team."   
  
"You never know; it could happen."   
  
"You don't watch that classic sports channel much, do you? The Angels only made it to the league championship series once, and that ended badly. The poor pitcher that gave up that pitch to Boston eventually committed suicide because of it, and then Boston messed up the World Series. Look, you can go back to when that singing cowboy owned the team; every time it looks like they're going to go somewhere, something bad happens, like someone dying. Ever hear of Lyman Bostock?"   
  
"Well, just because it's never happened in the past doesn't mean it couldn't happen this year."   
  
Casting her eyes skyward with a heavy sigh, Helga said "Oh, Arnold." Once her attention was back on him, she started to logically explain things to him. "Look, first the Angels don't have any stars. They don't have anyone."   
  
"That could be a good thing."   
  
"For one or two rounds, maybe, but not for the whole thing. What do you think they'll do, suit up their rally monkeys?"   
  
Before Arnold could say anything, a distant cry of "MON-KEYMAAAAANNN!" could be heard outside. Arnold looked at Helga.   
  
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't start. As I was saying, they don't have what it takes. They probably won't even make it to the playoffs, and if they do it'll be as a wild card team. A wild card team! Do you know what long odds they'd be up against then?"   
  
"Well, Florida was a wild card team the year they won it all."   
  
"Florida had a bunch of high-priced players, like Arizona did last year and still does. But as I was saying, Anaheim won't even win their division. Say they do manage to make it into the playoffs. You know that somewhere along the way they're going to have to play the Yankees, or the team that beats the Yankees. Do you realize how much that team is still smarting over last year? They - and especially that owner of theirs - honestly think that it's their right to be the champions every year! They're still hurting over not winning it all last year, and they won't let that happen again this year. But even if they do, what does that say about the team that beats them?"   
  
"That team could be the Angels."   
  
"Even granting that, even assuming that they actually by some miracle manage to make it into the World Series, they'd still have the entire National League to contend with. The defending champion is still there, and they haven't really lost anyone from last year. Then there's the Giants; this is Barry Bonds' year. The only thing left for him to do is to get that World Series ring, and his team is going to make sure that happens. No, Arnold. The Angels will never win the World Series, especially not this year."   
  
"We'll see, Helga; we'll see."   
  
"I'll tell you what; I'll give you the Angels against every other team in both leagues. I'll bet you that the Angels will not win, and I will collect."   
  
"What will you collect?"   
  
"Hmm, we'll worry about that when it happens, and it will happen."   
  
"But what if they do win? Then what will I get from you?"   
  
"Don't worry; that won't happen. You just worry about what I'm going to take from you or make you do for me."   
  
Arnold again shrugged. "Whatever you say, Helga, whatever you say."   
  
Outside, a young blonde was passing by on the other side of the street. She was troubled, and was out to get some air, to do some thinking.   
  
As she passed Slausen's, she noticed a crowd of children inside, some of which she thought she recognized. She stopped, and stood there for a time, staring, and thinking.   
  
================================================================  
  
7:57 P.M.   
  
Lila had just returned to the apartment dwelling she shared with her father. Daddy wanted her in by 8:00, because in a big city like this, you just never know. And she always tried to do what Daddy said, so she was always in before then. Well, except for the occasional event like a play or concert or fair or whatever, but most of the time...   
  
She now stood in her room, in front of her hope chest, mentally steeling herself for the trauma she knew she was about to undergo, knowing what was inside and the memories associated with each item she was about to rediscover.   
  
"Well, here goes."   
  
9:03 P.M.   
  
It had been as bad as she had feared, unpacking the books from the farm. Each book she saw awakened in her old memories; it was a wise move, making sure she had the box of tissues at the ready.   
  
Actually, a few books had been unpacked when they moved to Hillwood; they were on a shelf with some of Lila's stuffed animals. Those few had been all she had been able to unpack way back when, all she had been able to stand. She had found it easier to put them up on a shelf and forget about them, as well as their brethren and sisters still locked away in that trunk. Now, all that had changed. She had to empty the chest of its contents, at least down to L.   
  
The books had been packed in alphabetical order, so now they came out the opposite way. Yeats, Williams, Wells, Updike, Twain, Tolstoy, Thackeray, Stendahl, Steinbeck, Shaw, Shakespeare, Rousseau, Poe, Moliere; all were now scattered hither and yon around Lila's room, a few opened, and with a damp place or two as likely as not.   
  
She had finally reminisced her way back to L. Specifically, to Lewis, C.S.   
  
"Here we are, 'Chronicles of Narnia'. Let's see, Silver Chair, where is it? Here we go."   
  
flip flip flip   
  
"Ah. Here we are.",   
  
*Eleanor Blakiston heard Adela Pennyfather talking about it in our changing room yesterday. She said, 'Someone's got hold of that Scrubb kid. He's quite unmanageable this term. We shall have to attend to him next.'* Hmm, 'attend to him next'. But what does that have to do with Harold? Does Edward mean we'll attend to Harold next?" As she pondered these matters over a certain sheet of notebook paper she'd gotten from Brainy at summer's beginning, she was unaware that she was about to have a visitor.   
  
*knock knock*   
  
"Yes?" she backed away from the chest and hurriedly removed the signs of her having been out of sorts as best she could. As the door opened, though, it occurred to her that there wasn't much she could do about the open chest or the books all over the room.   
  
"Lila, honey?"   
  
"Yes, Daddy?"   
  
Mr. Sawyer's eyes swept the room, then were drawn to his only child. With mingled sadness and - for her sake - cheerfulness, he managed to get it out. "You finally decided to unpack the books?"   
  
She nodded. "It was time for me to, to deal with some things."   
  
He swallowed. The love he had for his child, and the concern, threatened to leak from his face. "How do you think you will be?"   
  
"I, I'll survive. It won't be pleasant, but I'll get through this, Daddy."   
  
As she was speaking, he was walking softly toward her. As she finished, he enveloped her in his arms, a favor she returned in kind. "That's my girl."   
  
Parting with a kiss on the forehead, his care for his daughter showed through in that same sad smile. "Lila, the reason I knocked is, Olga is here."   
  
"Oh."   
  
"If you're not up to seeing her, I could ask her to come back tomorrow."   
  
"No no, that's all right, Daddy. There's no such thing as a bad time to see my Big Sis."   
  
"She looks like she's a bit upset too." he cautioned.   
  
And was surprised when she responded, "Good. That'll take my mind off of my problems, trying to help her."   
  
Reinforcing his sad smile, and with a bit of a sniffle himself, he left the room with an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder. As she turned to prepare herself and her room, she could hear a bit of conversaion on the other side of the door.   
  
"Now Olga, take all the time you need. But when you're finished I will drive you home."   
  
"Mr. Sawyer, that won't be necessary."   
  
"No, I insist. If something were to happen to you on your way home from here I would never forgive myself. Now, don't you worry about it."   
  
"If you insist. Thank you, sir."   
  
The door opened.   
  
"Lil Sis?"   
  
"Come in, Big Sis."   
  
She did. As the gap closed between the two saccharine girls, Lila noticed that her father had not exaggerated. Olga was trying to hold it together inside of her, and was succeeding. For the moment.   
  
"Olga?"   
  
"Lila, I, I..." She was interrupted when Lila guided her into the small chair in the middle of the room, and knelt by her side. Sitting there gave her time to gather her thoughts.   
  
"Lila, you know that thing we've been working on, about Mummy and Daddy and, and Helga?"   
  
"Yes, of course, Olga. What about it?"   
  
*snif* "Well, you know that it's coming to a head; as a matter of fact, tomorrow is supposed to be the day that I confront them. Only..." she trailed off.   
  
Lila prodded. "'Only', what?"   
  
Olga turned her head so that Lila had a good look at her full in the face. It was a bleak, haggard face that Lila saw, a face of a person who had been awake all the previous night, and perhaps the night before as well.   
  
"I, I don't know if I can do it, Lila."   
  
Lila gasped. "Olga-"   
  
"I'm just not strong enough, Lila. I'm not strong enough to go through with this, not emotionally able to handle it. If I were stronger, if I were like Helga, say, I wouldn't even have to go through this. I would have done something about it a long time ago."   
  
"But Olga..."   
  
"This is my family, Lila. It's not much, but it's all I have, all I've ever had. If something goes wrong tomorrow, I'll lose everything, absolutely everything in my life. Oh, I could keep winning awards and trophies and such, but what would be the point? Everything I've ever won has been to please my family; without them, there would be no reason to go on winning. There, there would be no reason to, to do anything. No reason FOR anything, no point in going on."   
  
Another gasp, one that caused Lila to rear back on her haunches, as it were. "Olga, you don't mean...?"   
  
"I don't know, Lila. That's part of what's on my mind, not knowing, not even knowing what I think, what I want." She was starting to lose it now. "I'm scared, Lila. I've never really had to think about my future, because I knew that my family would always be there. If I were to lose them..." she trailed off in sniffles that were becoming larger with every sniff.   
  
Lila recognized Olga's crying jag; she knew there was nothing for it but to ride it out. Reaching up, she pulled Olga's head onto her shoulder and let her cry it out, keeping an eye out for where she'd put the box of tissues.   
  
After she deemed that sufficient time had passed, Lila started to go to work, and hoped that every word she said was the right one.   
  
"Olga, you know that it's not just you we're talking about. You know what is at stake for Helga."   
  
"I know, Lila. If it weren't for that, if it weren't for Helga, I would have folded immediately, just like I've done before. I would have knuckled under and kept playing Mary Sunshine, instead of confronting Daddy like I've been doing this summer. It's taken so much out of me, standing up to him..."   
  
"Olga?"   
  
"Lila, I have this feeling that if this goes wrong, it could go wrong, you know."   
  
"I, well,"   
  
Olga shot up out of the chair and started pacing around the room as she continued her 'what-if's.   
  
"It could, and if it does it'll destroy the family, it'll destroy the whole Pataki family, and then what good will that do for Helga?"   
  
"Will keeping on going along do anything for Helga?"   
  
silence   
  
"Olga?"   
  
"I, I guess not."   
  
"So if it's a choice between a chance for her and no chance at all, well..."   
  
"Don't you think I know that? But, I, I don't know. If only I were stronger, Lila, if only I were stronger..."   
  
By now Olga had returned to the chair; her arms shot out in front of her and grabbed the seat, in an effort to brace herself. As Olga trailed off again, Lila's mind raced. She reviewed every possibility that she could think of, everything she might have picked up from Brainy and Phoebe. She desperately searched through her mind for something, anything, that could help Olga.   
  
As her mind wandered, so did her eyes. They were sweeping over everything in the room, much as Lila herself was going over everything in her memory. Then they fell upon her bed, where one of the books from home stood out somewhat more prominently than the others. It was a thick book, the works of Shakespeare.   
  
That's when it hit her.   
  
"Olga?"   
  
"Mmm?" Olga's head went up and turned as Lila again got her attention.   
  
"If you were in, oh, how shall I put it? A sterner frame of mind. Could you do this, if you were?"   
  
"Well, I think so. But I'm not in a sterner frame of mind, so-"   
  
"Wait, hear me out. I think I have an idea. How are you at method acting?"   
  
"Method acting?" She stood as the implications of what Lila was asking cycled through her mind. "I was an excellent method actress; why do you ask?"   
  
"I thought that if you-"   
  
"Wait, I think I know what you mean, Lila. But I'm planning on confronting Mummy and Daddy tomorrow! How can I get into character at this late date? Or even find a character to get into?"   
  
"I think I have the right character in mind." Lila responded as she left Olga's side and approached the bed, and the Shakespeare book. "How did you do in Shakespeare in college?"   
  
For a moment, a touch of pride came to Olga. "I always get an 'A'." she stated.   
  
Remembering something she'd seen on television, Lila muttered under her breath, "So did Frankenstein."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Oh, nothing. There's a certain woman who'd be the perfect character. Someone hard, cold, ruthless. Someone who dispensed with all of her tender feelings and put everything on the line to get what she wanted."   
  
"You mean from the Scottish play?"   
  
"The Scottish play?"   
  
"In the theater, it's bad luck to refer to that play by name."   
  
"Oh, I see. Well, are you familiar with Lady 'the Scottish play'?"   
  
That bit of humor was desperately needed amid all the heavy amounts of angst. After a fit of giggling on both their parts, Olga nodded. "Would you believe I played her?"   
  
Lila was amazed. "Wow! Although I'm finding out that miracles happen."   
  
"So you intend for me to get into her character?"   
  
"Well, yes. What do you think?"   
  
"I suppose it's worth a try. You wouldn't happen to have any of the script so that I could-"   
  
Lila gestured toward her bed. "It's in this book right here."   
  
"You have a copy of Shakespeare? Wait," Olga interrupted herself as for the first time she looked around the room. "Where did all these books come from?"   
  
"From my hope chest. I packed them in there when we moved here from the farm."   
  
"You never told me about that."   
  
Lila looked to her side in sadness. "It, it hurt to remember. It still does."   
  
Olga caught the sudden catch in Lila's voice. "Lila?"   
  
"It's all right, Olga. I'll be fine; I just need to work through this."   
  
"Well, if you say so, Lila."   
  
Lila approached Olga, the book now in her hands. She'd been flipping through it, searching for the appropriate page. Finally, she found it. "Here, Olga. I think this is the page you will need."   
  
Her eyes darted down to the page, scanning it as she had done with many a text in classes dating back to kindergarten. After a minute, she looked up. Lila could see a fire starting to burn in Olga's eyes. She kept quiet while Olga verbally reviewed what is possibly the most coldhearted passage ever written for a female character:   
  
"'Come, you spirits   
  
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,   
  
And fill me from the crown to the toe topful   
  
Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,   
  
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse,   
  
That no compunctious visitings of nature   
  
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between   
  
Th' effect and [it]! Come to my woman's breasts,   
  
And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring ministers,   
  
Wherever in your sightless substances   
  
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,   
  
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,   
  
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,   
  
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark   
  
To cry, 'Hold, hold!'"   
  
As Olga finished her soliloquy, Lila could see the change in her. She was no longer the weeping willow prone to crumble at any sign of pressure. She was now resolute, adamant, implacable. In the truest spirit of method acting, Olga Pataki had become Lady MacBeth.   
  
She almost called Olga's name, but decided that would be counterproductive. As Olga started to walk toward the door, Lila pursued what she judged to be the wisest course of action: she simply stepped out of the way.   
  
Olga, too, strived to maintain her state of mind, careful not to break character. As she passed Lila, though, she allowed herself ten words.   
  
"Thank you Lila. I think I can handle it now."   
  
Instead of saying 'you're welcome', Lila just got the door for Olga.   
  
"Daddy?"   
  
Mr. Sawyer looked up from the book he was reading to see his daughter standing in front of him. Next to her stood Olga, who looked a little, well, out of it.   
  
"Yes, Lila? Have you had your talk?"   
  
"Yes, Daddy. Olga's ready to go home now. And Daddy, I hope you won't think Olga rude if she doesn't speak to you. She's in character for a very important part she's going to play tomorrow, and she doesn't want to break it."   
  
Olga's eyes shifted toward Lila, blinking in a glint of agreement.   
  
"Oh. All right; I'll get the car. Now Lila, you will make sure to lock the door, won't you? I'll be worried with you in the house by yourself at this time of night."   
  
"I will, Daddy."   
  
The kissing, the door opening, the descending the stairs, the car pulling out of the lot across the street, the locking of the door; all passed within minutes. Alone in the apartment now, Lila got settled in the front room to wait for her father's return. She wouldn't be able to sleep until he did.   
  
*Hmm, I could call Edward... no, it's too late for that tonight. I'll call him tomorrow.*   
  
Instead, since she had been doing so before Olga's visit anyway, she started re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia. And friends, there are worse ways to spend your time.   
  
================================================================  
  
Saturday, 9:07 A.M.   
  
*riiiiiing*   
  
*riiiiiing*   
  
*riiiiiing*   
  
*click*   
  
"Heh, heh, heh, hello?"   
  
"Hello, Edward."   
  
"Oh, hi Lila."   
  
"Edward, do you have a moment?"   
  
"Uh, sure. This isn't about Nadine, is it?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"She's a good friend, kind of like a cousin. And I do keep her insects supplied with nougats."   
  
"Edward, I wasn't even thinking about Nadine."   
  
"Oh. Sorry."   
  
"Can I say what I was going to say now?"   
  
"Uh, yeah."   
  
"Good, I'll come right to the point. Did you know that Olga plans to confront her parents today?"   
  
"Well, I didn't know it was today that she was going to do it, but this is what we've been planning for, right?"   
  
"Right, but Olga was very upset."   
  
"I thought you were whipping her into shape?"   
  
"I have been, and I think I took care of the reservations she was having. But she was still worried, and it got me to thinking."   
  
"About?"   
  
"Edward, be honest with me."   
  
"Always."   
  
"Just what kind of risk are we running here?"   
  
"Lila, you knew at the start what the odds were."   
  
"The odds, but not the stakes."   
  
"Oh, you want the bottom line."   
  
"Yes, the bottom line. Give me the bottom line, Edward."   
  
"All right. Do you ever watch those science fiction shows?"   
  
"What does that have to do with anything?!?"   
  
"I'm trying to make a point here. Sometimes in those outer space scenarios and such they deal with antimatter; maybe you've heard of it."   
  
"Just because I grew up around Amish doesn't mean I've been THAT sheltered."   
  
"Sorry."   
  
"Edward, are you saying that it's that dangerous?"   
  
"It always is when you're playing with people's lives."   
  
"Playing with people's lives?!?"   
  
"That's what I said; I said it before, and I'm saying it now. There's no getting around it; we are playing with people's lives, and we have to play to win."   
  
"Are you saying this is a game?"   
  
"Yes, and a deadly game, Lila."   
  
"Edward, don't say that!"   
  
"If I don't it won't change the facts. Lila, you asked me to give you the bottom line, so here it is. What we're doing, what Olga's about to do because of us, because of me... it could either stop the destruction of the Pataki family, or..."   
  
"Or?"   
  
"Or it could accelerate it, maybe complete it."   
  
"You, you're saying that... do you realize what you're saying?!?"   
  
"Yes. There's a very good chance that this could destroy the family. By this time tomorrow, the Patakis could be in ruins, like a tv show pulled before it even sees the light of day."   
  
"Would you stop talking in terms of television and sports?!"   
  
"Sorry."   
  
silence   
  
"Lila?"   
  
"I'm here, I'm just trying to think."   
  
"A way out?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"The three of us have been trying to come up with an alternative all summer; it's a bit late now. Although if you can come up with something..."   
  
"I can't, it's just... Oh, Edward! Isn't there anything I can do?"   
  
"Well... you pray, right?"   
  
"What? Well, yes of course. I am a God-fearing woman, er, girl." She smiled as she said this, hoping Brainy would get the hint.   
  
He did. "Eh, heh, well, seriously, Lila. If you ever prayed before, pray today. This operation will need all the help it can get, including help not of this earth."   
  
"Oh dear. It doesn't seem like enough."   
  
"From what I hear it never does."   
  
"And what will you be doing?"   
  
"Worrying; right now that's the only thing I can do. The ball's in Olga's court now, and I hope she pulls it off for all of our sakes including mine."   
  
"Yours? You have a personal stake in this, I mean, beyond what we already know?"   
  
"Lila, if this doesn't work, if Helga and her family are destroyed because of this; it will be all my fault. I don't know how I'll be able to live with myself if that happens."   
  
"I wish you wouldn't put it like that; you're the second person in as many days to even imply, well, you know."   
  
"Olga talked of suicide too?"   
  
"In a way, sort of... It frightens me when people talk of such things."   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
================================================================  
  
3:57 P.M.   
  
The Pataki brownstone. Olga is looking for her sister. She finds her, next to the phone at the foot of the stairs.   
  
"Helga?"   
  
Caught by surprise, Helga reacts. "Olga, do you mind? I'm trying to make a phone call here!"   
  
"Sorry if I disturbed you."   
  
The summer had been one surprise after another, at least as far as her big sister was concerned; what was one more. But this was one surprise too many. Helga found herself asking of Olga one of the last questions she thought she would ask.   
  
"Olga, are you all right?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"You've been acting weird all summer, like you actually care about me."   
  
"I always have cared about you, Helga; I'm sorry that I've never shown it." She paused. "Sometimes I wonder what went wrong between us, what more I could have done."   
  
Helga couldn't decide if she was shocked at how Olga was behaving, or just being in a 'whatever' frame of mind. But she decided to keep showing her tough side. "Olga, did you spook me just to apologize, or was there another reason?"   
  
Olga again fought the urge to tear up; she could be tough too, she was finding. "Actually, I was looking for my old Shakespeare book from college; have you seen it?"   
  
Helga sweated a little over that, knowing that the book in question was on the top floor of a certain boarding house. "Um, no."   
  
"Oh well; I can pull what I need from it off of the internet I suppose. Oh, there was something else..."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Well, you know that things have been louder than usual around here?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Well, I'm afraid it's going to come to a head tonight; you might not want to come downstairs."   
  
"Thanks for the heads-up. Now if that's all, I still have that call to make?"   
  
Desperately trying to stay in her Lady MacBeth character, Olga closed her eyes. With a nod, she acknowledged the termination of the conversation with her sister. Then she ascended the stairs.   
  
Alone again, Helga returned to the phone call.   
  
*riiiinng*   
  
*riiiinng*   
  
*riiinng*   
  
*click* "Hello?"   
  
"Yo, Pheebs?"   
  
"Hello, Helga."   
  
"So how ya doin'?"   
  
"Well, actually, things have been better around here than they are today."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"Yes, that cold I had Sunday? Now my parents have it."   
  
"Aww!"   
  
"I'm glad you're being so sympathetic."   
  
"It's not that, well it is, but..."   
  
"But?"   
  
"I was about to ask to stay the night at your place. You know how things have been loud this summer around here?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Olga just tipped me off, tonight's gonna be one of those nights."   
  
"Oh dear. I'd like to help but you really do not want to be here tonight. It could expose you to infection, and after the last cold you had-"   
  
"What last cold?"   
  
"You remember, it was almost the last day of school. You had to stay home that day, even did some vomitting from what you told me."   
  
"Oh yeah. Yeah, I guess I wouldn't want to put myself through that again anytime soon. Guess I'll be watching tv tonight, then."   
  
"That set in your room that Olga got you for your birthday?"   
  
"Yeah. Don't tell her, but I've actually been getting some good out of it. Did I tell you it includes a headphone jack?"   
  
"No you didn't."   
  
"Yeah. Won't be hearing anything tonight but Court TV or, well, I'll find something."   
  
"I'm sure."   
  
"So, how many more group sessions you got?"   
  
"One, next week."   
  
"You're not getting too tight with Brainy and Lila, are you?"   
  
"Why no, no not at all. Why do you ask?"   
  
"Just making sure. They're not the kind of people you wanna hang out with, know what I mean? I mean Brainy's just weird and, well, you know about Lila."   
  
"Um, yes... wait a minute."   
  
For a minute Helga heard faint voices, one of them Phoebe's. When the minute was over...   
  
"Sorry about that."   
  
"Hey, it's all right. That cold laying out your folks, right?"   
  
"Right. I'm sorry, I'll have to leave now."   
  
"No problem. You just take care of things there and I'll talk to you later."   
  
"Right. Talk to you later."   
  
8:38 P.M.   
  
Olga's room: a testament of the grandeur to which royalty entitles one. In this case, Olga Pataki, who had always been treated like royalty. Nowadays it would have disgusted her had she allowed herself to think about it. But right now her mind was not on that, not by any means.   
  
Instead, it was on her sister, her family, what she must do, the part she must soon play. In her Morris chair, Olga was sitting, concentrating, meditating, call it what you will. It was her unique method of psyching herself up for a part. A bit unorthodox, but it had always worked for her. And good thing; tonight, she would be playing the part of a lifetime.   
  
Clutching in one hand a printout from a Shakespeare website, she was sitting crosslegged, arms folded, eyes closed. And she was chanting.   
  
"I am Lady MacBeth... I am Olga Pataki... I am Lady MacBeth... I am Olga Pataki... I am Lady MacBeth, speaking through Olga Pataki... The Lady is taking possession... She will speak through me... She is me, and I am her... It is coming... It is coming... It is done."   
  
Her eyes opened. Cold, emotionless eyes which betrayed nothing of the person inside. Once again, Olga had become her part.   
  
Arms and legs unfolding, she stood. The printout fell from her hand onto the ornate rug; she didn't notice.   
  
Stretching her left hand out in front of her face, she borrowed from her character's husband.   
  
"Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?"   
  
With the same hand, she grabbed the finished videotape she and Lila had made off of the end table which was between the Morris chair and the queen sized bed.   
  
"Come, let me clutch thee."   
  
She then willed that hand toward her side, the tape still securely in her grasp. Firm, resolute, her purpose set, she then turned to walk toward the door.   
  
Next to the door, she stopped, her gaze falling on her faux fireplace. For a moment, she was lost, staring at the ornamental crown of pretentiousness.   
  
Shaking herself out of her momentary funk, she reestablished her resolve, and opened the door. As she passed the threshold, she continued to quote from the Scottish play:   
  
"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.   
  
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell   
  
That summons thee to heaven or to hell."   
  
A hallway away, the younger Pataki was flaking out on her bed, reading her Archie comics.   
  
She heard a door close across the way, and checked her clock.   
  
"Hmm. Well, Olga said there'd be fireworks tonight; guess they'll start any time now... Better get ready."   
  
So saying, she collected her comics and made her way to the edge of her bed. Reaching it, she stood, and then turned around and ducked back down. Stashing her comics in their box under the bed, with the same effort she withdrew the TV Olga had gotten her for her birthday.   
  
All right, so technically it was the day after her birthday, it was the thought that counts as the saying goes. And it certainly beat the presents her older sister had proferred on previous birthdays; some years she had completely forgotten.   
  
But not this year; this year big sister had gone all out, getting a top-of-the-line portable from TV & Video Warehouse, plus peripherals from Video Hut. Color screen, cable or satellite ready, ports for a VCR or DVD player or whatever, yes, even a headphone jack so she could watch and listen without disturbing anyone else.   
  
"Not that anyone else would hear tonight, not if Olga was right." went through Helga's head as she reached for the cable outlet and then screwed it into the appropriate port. Reaching for the headphones next, she plugged them in. Then it was just a matter of turning the set on and turning the channels until she reached her favorite channel.   
  
"Ah, Court TV. Hey, Homicide!" She settled down onto her bed, the set securely balanced on top of her stomach.   
  
*Not everything is about race, and not everything is directed at you!*   
  
"Whoo, the first episode! That's telling him, Felton. *sigh* Too bad you're gonna get blown away before you and Russert can..."   
  
9:00 P.M.   
  
In her room, Lila notices the time. She knows.   
  
In front of her bed, she kneels, and continues a tradition that had been ingrained in her since before she could remember. She clasped her hands and bowed her head.   
  
"It's me again..."   
  
================================================================  
  
And so another chapter finally comes to its conclusion. Folks, the next chapter will be in-TENSE! You'll be blown away. And I promise that I won't take nearly as long next time.   
  
Anyone who's not technically inclined can skip this paragraph. The thing of it is, this computer's running out of memory. So I'm downloading files onto disk and deleting them; already done it with my southern gospel stuff. The thing is, I do my fics on MS Works. I then save them as text files so that I can send them to this depository of fanfiction. But when I try to save these fics to disk I find that they come up again in Notepad. I don't like Notepad, all the side-scrolling. So what do I do? Could I save them into Word or Wordpad and still send them to ff.n? Would they really be affected if I didn't? Someone advise me, please! Thank you.   
  
Folks, please let me know what y'all think. The usual read & review stuff. I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm Nftnat@aol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Thanks and cy'all. 


	23. Oak Ridge

Hello, everyone.

Well, the eternal procrastinator finally returns. Contrary to what I'd said in my e-mail, it's actually been 19 months since my last effort in this area. There's no one to blame for that but myself. I hope y'all can forgive me for keeping y'all waiting so long; I hope there's someone still here, still willing to read what I write, still willing to give me another chance.

Believe me I've disappointed no one more than myself; I just noticed the file name this has on my computer and remembered I've been working on this particular incarnation since June 9! You got my e-mail, you know some of the problems I've been having; factor in having to wipe and start over again on this machine, and, well… But like I said, skin of a reason stuffed with a lie. I owe it to myself – not to mention all of you – to get this out there and hope it's up to my previous stuff.

I can safely say that this is the most difficult literary effort on which I have ever labored, and that includes back when I had a creative writing mental block in grade school. The movie in the middle is the crux of the whole thing, and the portion on which I have sweated the most. As y'all know, I want everything I put out to be perfect, and it just wasn't happening. I'm still not satisfied with what I finally put down there, but enough is enough. It's Christmas, and I owe y'all.

Now, as to the reviews:

purplepincushion: Heh, I really hadn't thought about the ice cream connection would you believe? Oh, and you're welcome you're welcome you're welcome.

BrianaLFBH: Considering the circumstances you laid out, I appreciate your impatience. We'll see if Lila's prayers work. What is happening with Arnold & Helga? Well, what do we want to happen with them? Things have already been set into motion, courtesy of Brainy & co. among others. And according to what I have in mind, Lila won't find out. That heart will just fade away into their collective mental oblivions; It's better that way. Although… hmm, well, now that I think of it I might do something with that in the future, but I'm not making any promises. Certainly not in this story, but in a future one, we'll see. As to the side stories, well, everyone's lives happen at the same time. I'm focusing on a core group, but there are many others who are there, and their stories deserve to be at least looked at. I won't give a lot of gratuitous exposition, but they do have their own lives, and where I deem it necessary, they will be at least glimpsed. I see what happens far in the future with them as well, and I won't sell them short.

beady: I especially won't blame you if you ignore this, but I do hope you won't. You're hard on me and you're passionate about what you like. I kind of need some of that. There are certain reviews I'm glad I have staring me in the face when I write, and yours is one of them. And I'll try to watch it on the tenses.

Helga243: Thank you.

The Review Guy: I appreciate the information about Earthbound, Cycle, and that Calvin story. Maybe one of these years I'll have the time, opportunity, and motivation to look them up.

Paradoxal Reality: Yeah, I do love the oldies; I love lots of styles of music, but I won't get into that here. As I said, hard as it is to believe, the Ice Cream connection was not on my mind when I had them go to Slausen's. I can say that Helga will notice Phoebe's association with her current colleagues, and there will be a plot twist out of it. I enjoyed the baseball conversation, although since that particular season – the 2002 season, remember – is now two years old, I'll have to dig in the archives to make sure I have the right info. No problem; the library is close at hand. That will figure into the plot, as y'all will see. And I LOVE putting episode references into my writings, the more the better. Well, the more the better up to a point, as you said, as long as they're not too distracting. I admire your insight into Lila's chest of books and its connection to her past. It's no secret that I am sympathetic to Lila; ever since I saw the episode that introduced her and had cause to wonder where her mother is, why she and her Dad moved there from Pleasantville, that farming community. And considering how depressed her father seemed to be in that episode, the 'cheerful perfect girl' mask does indeed fit rather well. It's no wonder she got paired with Olga in that BSLS program, which offers all the more proof as to the absence of her mother. Segueing into Olga, yes, she is a perfectionist. I too am a perfectionist, and I have some idea to what she's going through. Hey, if one B grade can drive her to crawl inside Mozart's 'Requiem' and not want to come out – and anyone who's seen Amadeus knows the circumstances of that little piece of music – you can imagine what she's going through here. She is standing at the lip of the abyss, staring down into the yawning chasm, with no way out. And still she forces herself to step out. I have her loving her sister that much, with a timely assist from Lila. There are those who disagree, which is fine with me. The Lila- and Olga-haters have as much right to their opinion as I do to mine. It has become fashionable to sympathize with the un-sympathetic characters; I guess I'm ahead of the curve in that I sympathize with characters no one else will, like Lila and Olga. There's still hope for Big Bob in my opinion, as we will see.I appreciate your compliments on timing and pacing. I also appreciate irony, very much so. And thanks for your advice on Word and such. I'm typing in it now.

Storyteller E: Yes, finally. Hmm, why do I get the feeling you're a Trigun fan.

savagemind: Ooh, the happy dance. I continued to be overwhelmed at the positive attention this story gets and can only hope that it continues, that I have it in me to continue the high standards I've set. The baseball stuff will come up again – indeed, it will form a plot point – but it's not vital for you to understand it. Hey, I don't understand cricket, and I have tried to. All you need to keep in mind is what is in the record books, that the Angels did win the World Series in 2002, so you know that so will Arnold. As to leaving y'all hanging, what can I say but what I have said before.

The Review Guy: Whoa, you reviewed twice? Wow. Another fic for me do look at, sometime down the road. I'll get to it, I will; I'm just not sure when. Let's see, The Um Really Good Fic, go it.

WAYAMY27NARF: I appreciate your prayers. Like I said I haven't come to a decision about the writing, and I thought that it was a non-issue. Y'all continue to bring more out of me. As to the confrontation, well, read on. And Brainy's plan, well, I am the resident cockeyed optimist, if that tells you anything. Surprises? Well, I do try. It's almost the end of summer for them, the summer of 2002. The novel, I don't know; my passion is in reference books but I do have some ideas. I don't care how many lick it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop; I just stick it in my mouth and pull the stick out at the earliest opportunity. I think that Ruben won that season of American Idol, and so much time has passed that there has been another season, won by Fantasia. Hey, I'm not into reality TV but – being a musician – I do try to keep up with the music industry. The season finale of Frasier? You'd know more about that than I would; I do know that Niles & Daphne's baby was had in the finale, and Martin got married, and I'm not sure after that. Did he get back with Lilith, I wonder. Well, I'm not really into that either, though I am glad that Ross & Rachel got back together; wonder how long it'll last this time. And I'm always glad to make the acquaintance of another Animaniacs fan. I invite you to check out toonzone; it's at . For that matter, that goes for all of you. I do appreciate your advice on Word, Notepad, and all. And you use our spelling of 'okkay'. And you're a Weird Al fan, too; better and better. I like this girl.

Storyteller: Your in-depth review I have also enjoyed. I doregret this taking so long, and would not blame you if you've stopped believing in me this time. As I've said before, Brainy is one of my favorite characters, one who fascinates me. IMO there were little hints dropped throughout the series, and I decided to pick up on them. It's no secret that CB voiced him and kind of based him on himself. His luck will change, eventually. It's kind of a dream of mine that one day he might happen across this. I'm not losing any sleep over that, though. He was kind enough to comment o my Episode Notes thread at the message boards, though; we'll see. I will be the first to say, though, that getting these chapters in so late does not do me any favors. As to Helga & Arnold, oh yeah, they will have some screen time coming up here. Otherwise, why even write this thing, right? And I wonder if here's another Trigun fan. Well, hasta I see you. Your fics? I will try.

Sleather Chonkers: Don't feel guilty. I am the last person who has a right to be upset with someone taking a long time to do anything. I have left you hanging, waiting for those lightning bolts to strike. Well, here they do. You're right about the lesser-known characters. I'm not the only one to do this – Yardbird 9's series of fics and chief's Robert series come to mind. Nadine and Park also have their fans, well, I guess everyone in the show does. Recently I came across a fic centering on Chocolate Boy and the Campfire Lass. I like what I've been seeing. Now, your point on Brainy's amorality is well taken. Keep in mind, though, that his family has a history of being on the other side of the law. He comes from a long line of crooks, and he is very aware of that. He goes into this in , I forget the chapter number, but the title is Confessions of Edward Moore Elkins V. His quest is quixotic, and he admits it. I cannot say that Lila will not have any effect on him, which to those who have some idea of where I'm going with this pretty much goes without saying. He's coming to a crisis, and he's not the only one. You know the old saying: strap yourselves in, it's going to be a bumpy ride. And don't worry about your long reviews; I enjoy them, and my responses are commensurate.

Stoned Carson: Yeah, a cliffhanger; I'm afraid I'm bad with those. You're right about this site; I know I've had my problems with it. They've pulled all of my Histeria stories! Little tolerance in that category; less than a third of the stories there survived that purge. Makes me wonder what's next. Yeah, I don't like loose ends. Tucker was in one episode, then, poof! An explanation was warranted. So true about Helga and that writing. She is her own worst enemy.

Chien: I continue to be grateful for your highly excellent reviews. The complexity, I guess you could say, was deliberate. Not that I meant to make it confusing, like you said; I just wanted to make the story complete. I didn't want to skip over details, or even over people. In my mind's eye I see them, and I see them having real lives. It can of course be hard to keep all those plates in the air at once, but I guess if you really care about the characters, it's not such a bother. I'm reminded of the woman who had a plethora of plants she raised and, when asked how she managed to keep all their names straight, replied, "You remember the names of all YOUR friends, don't you?" I continue to be glad at the perfection y'all say y'all see here, but I continue to improve it.

blueraven: The writer's block is hopefully a thing of the past. I will finish this story, though not in one chapter. And even then, there will be more stories to be told in the future I see for these kids.

DcWestby: You're right; I should continue this, and I will, and I do. Thanks for saying it's great. I do appreciate it.

WAYAMY27NARF: I am right here; I have always been here. I have not abandoned this project. Hey, you reviewed twice too! Outstanding.  
Number6: Hi to you too, and your bad English is negligible; I know I'd do much worse in your language. I appreciate what you're saying. I try to use everyone I can and to treat everyone I can with as much respect as possible. I know this is a cartoon, but to me, these aren't cartoon caricatures; they're real people. I think that was what CB & co. had in mind, and I like to think I'm honoring their legacy. I have said that other cartoons might have heart, but this one has soul. I didn't know about Arnold's E-files; could you direct me to where they are on the web, if they're here? I would appreciate that. 'A work of art'; now, isn't that so nice of you. And you're right; it is a work of love. You bet I'm going to continue it. With reviewers like y'all, why wouldn't I; although I'd go on with it anyway, but these reviews, wow!

All Hey Arnold! Characters and concepts are created by, owned by, and / or copyright Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon.

Breakfast At Tiffany's was recorded by Deep Blue Something and is copyright to Interscope Entertainment.

I'm pretty sure that Titan Sports / WWE has the copyright on WrestleMania.

Tabasco Sauce is copyright the McIlhenny Plantation, Avoyelles Parish, Louisiana.

The Brandenburg Concertos were by Johann Sebastian Bach.

The Minute Waltz was by Frederic Chopin.

Beethoven should be copyright to himself, although knowing how backers and sponsors and whatnot have always taken advantage of artists, well…

Lady MacBeth was created by William Shakespeare.

The Olympics is copyright the International Olympic Committee.

Homicide, Bayliss, and Pembleton are copyright Barry Levinson / Tom Fontana and NBC (a unit of RCA), and is based on the Edgar award-winning book by David Simon.   
Court TV is copyright Coutroom Television Network LLC.

It was late in the day - actually, it was night - as the Patakis minus one assembled in the living room.

"So, um, Olga-" Miriam began in what had become her usual mealy-mouthed way. It was a manner of speaking, in a manner of speaking, with which Olga was familiar and which normally she took in stride; but not tonight.

"Yes, Mummy, I guess you and Daddy are wondering why I've called the two of you here tonight, and why Helga isn't here with us."

"The girl?"

That was a bit much for Olga, and it nearly set her off before her time. "No, Daddy, not 'the girl', not 'little missy' or 'little lady', not Olga - that's MY name, remember? - and not 'baby sister'. She has her own name, and it's Helga. Helga Geraldine Pataki."

"Sheesh, you don't have to bite my head off, Olga! So why ARE we here? My new beeper commercial doesn't debut until tomorrow night."

"There's something I'd like to show the two of you." Here she lifted the tape in her hands to chest level. "You might know that over the years I've taken a drama course or two in college, and you know that I've done a bit of acting in those classes-"

"And you've won, too. Always a winner, just like I've taught you!"

"Mm, yes, we have that lunch drama award around here, um, someplace..." Miriam didn't mean to trail off like that; normally she didn't indulge in her 'smoothies' while Olga was around to occupy her senses. Anyway it didn't matter as Olga was a bit preoccupied with things other than her mother's condition.

"Yes, well, I suppose that it could well be said, then, that one of the things I have been in my long and illustrious collegiate career-" she gritted her teeth to keep the sarcasm down "- is an actress. And of course you know what every actor and actress says they really want to do."

"Direct, I knew it! And you've already made your first movie, haven't you, Olga?" Bob barked, noticing the videotape for the first time.

"Well, sort of. I didn't really do any actual directing; I just saw what was happening, and I pointed the camera at the action and let it roll. It's kind of in the reality genre."

" snort , reality shows, sheesh! Nothing but a fad. Now, sitcoms, there's a format that's got some legs on it! Nothing like a good sitcom in first run syndication to keep the viewers glued to the set through the commercials, and that's the bread & butter for businesses like my beeper empire."

Olga let that slide as best she could. "Yes, well, be that as it may, I've been working on this over the summer and here's the finished project. I probably won't be showing this to anyone else - for reasons I think you'll understand when you see it - but I wanted to show it to the two of you."

"Um, okkay, that sounds like fun."

"Yeah, pop it in. It'll probably be all right, considering YOU made it."

Without another word Olga followed her father's instruction, for possibly the last time, she thought as she prepared the television set for VCR viewing. A couple of stray tears managed to find their way into her eyes, but she blinked them away before turning back toward her parents, a second remote - Big Bob held the primary one of course - in her hand.

She cleared her throat, figuring she might as well give a rating / advisory before starting. "I should mention that this film contains intense emotional content and a little bit of profanity."

"Hey, I'm a big boy, Olga. I can handle it."

Miriam was silent, her eyes riveted to the as-yet blank television screen.

I just might hold you to that , Olga thought. Nothing else to be done, she pointed her remote and pushed PLAY.

The first inkling of the verbal and emotional carnage to come made its appearance a minute later.

"What's that orphan doing with her?"

"He's not necessarily an orphan, Dad. His parents disappeared; you can't prove they're dead."

"Whatever, so what is that Alfred-"

She swung around to face him. "His name is Arnold, and he's been a better friend to her than the three of us put together, even before this summer!" She caught a sign of shock on her mother's face out of the corner of her eye, the first of many to come that night.

Bob wasn't shocked, not yet. "Sheesh, Olga, what's eatin' ya?"

"What's 'eatin' me' is what we've been doing to my sister over the years!"

"What? She's just fine!"

"You'll see; now let's pay attention to what they're saying."

Things got worse from there.

(A/N: We'll never know exactly how that movie went. I know I never shall, and I've been trying to get a clear picture of that for the majority of the time this thing has been in production, if you can call it that. It's the chief reason for the long, long delay. I can get images, snatches of conversation, stuff like that. Of course I can also put in memories and flashbacks and such from the series. Connecting the pieces, however, I'm about ready to give up on as a lost cause. Maybe it will be more dramatic this way, more of a montage. I mean, how can what happened next be adequately described? I've been puzzling over this - among other things - for a year and a half now as you know. I've come up with no way to do it – I haven't even come up with appropriate commentary of A&H for all of the clips yet – so rather than cover the 'movie' and the reactions to same in depth, I'm going to cover parts of the movie, and the memories that what is said triggers in those watching it, and those acting, well, they're not acting but you get my point. It will be stuff from the series, stuff that might be in the collective memories of Helga, Arnold, Olga, Miriam, and Big Bob. Think of it as watching a DVD and switching back & forth between the movie and the extras: you know, commentaries, behind-the-scenes, alternate endings, bloopers, that sort of thing. To keep confusion to a minimum, I'll put the flashbacks in. Here goes nothing; I hope it's good enough for y'all.)

"What about Christmas? Do they show you anything in the way of good feeling then? They must, right? You do get presents from them, at least. Right?"

"Well…"

"Helga! Where have you been all day?"

"Out, Miriam."

"Honey, you look depressed. Why don't you open one of your presents now? … Merry Xmas!"

"Oh, my gosh! Nancy Spumoni signature snow boots! Oh my gosh! My gosh!"

"I stood in line for eighteen hours to get these, Helga, I swear, they must be the last pair in the city."

"Wow. Thanks, Mom. I wanted these more than anything, anything in the whole wide world. I have GOT to try them out!"

"…and when he DOES try to spend time it's only because he's forced to. And then it isn't pretty."

"Dad! What's the matter with you? Are you trying to kill me?!?"

"How'm I supposed to know you don't eat pig's feet?"

"You don't know anything about me, Dad."

"You're a kid; what's there to know?"

"What kind of a moron is he?"

"Oh, her? That's my other daughter. We're bonding, spending quantity time together."

"Quantity time, oh-hohoh, that's funny, hahahah, wheeze !"

"Yeah."

"I'm not going to the hardware store, DAD, and I'm not doing any more of your inane errands with you. You think this 'spending quantity time' with someone just means doing what YOU want to do! Why don't you just pull over here and drop me off? Oh, and if anyone asks, we bonded, and it was great."

"C'mon, you love this!"

"I loved it when I was five."

"Well, how old are you now, seven, eight?"

"Nine, DAD!"

"Nine? When the heck did you turn nine?"

"Last year, DOI!..."

"So, what, now you're not ever going to talk to me again?"

"How'm I ever gonna know what's wrong? Don't you pull a 'Miriam' on me, young lady!"

"I would like you to leave me alone now. No more bonding, no more feeble attempts at spending time together. Just. Leave. Me Alone."

boop bip bip boop bip beep bip

"Phoebe. Did you get 'em? -- AAAUUUGGGHHH!!! What a rotten week! First Miriam bails on me because she can't take it, and then my lame Dad forces me to spend the entire day with him so he can pretend that we're bonding, what a joke!..."

"He doesn't try to anything for you? At all?"

"Well…"

Look at her; she looks miserable. I gotta think of something I can do for her. I just need some kind of clue.

"All right, he thought I wanted to go see 'Rats' really bad, so he pulled some strings and got us tickets."

"Well, there you go! Did you enjoy it?"

"We both enjoyed laughing at it."

"Laughing at it? But I thought you said you-"

"I said he THOUGHT I wanted it; the ad was on the back of a WrestleMania poster. THAT was what I WANTED to see."

"So you didn't get anything out of it."

"Oh, we had fun goofing on the people who actually enjoyed it. Yeah, I guess it was fun; we bonded over that."

"Well, that's something."

"Yeah, right."

"Ever hear the song 'Breakfast At Tiffany's'? It was enough for someone to hold out to make his girlfriend reconsider breaking up with him."

"Notice it doesn't say what her response was."

"What about back a couple of Halloweens ago? He seemed all right then. A bit off the deep end with his alien stories, but-"

"Oh, come on! He was as bad as ever."

"How many times is he going to call me 'Olga'? Does he think it's funny or something?"

"But he was crying! I saw him!"

"Helga? Is that you? Is it really you?"

"Hel-LO-oooo!! IT'S BEEN ME THE WHOLE TIME, YOU BIG GOOF!"

"Holy cow! I almost killed my own daughter!! I'm a monster!!!"

"You saw that?"

"Helga, I was there. He and Grandpa carried us back down from Wells Ridge side by side, remember?"

"Wow, Helga, that's quite a spread! All the food groups are well represented."

"Yeah! Can you believe Miriam made it?"

"...I swear, Helga, being at the office makes me feel like a whole new person, you know? In fact, I have decided to go back each & every day."

"Sounds great!"

"Oh, it is, honey, it's just wonderful. I'm telling you, sigh, I haven't been this happy in years."

"Then, I guess I'd better go do my homework and let you get back to it."

" gasp, Wait, Helga, why don't you just do your homework in here with me?"

"Okkay, I'll go get my stuff."

"Okkay!"

"Wow, Helga, that's quite a spread! All the food groups are well represented."

"Yeah! Can you believe Miriam made it?"

"...I swear, Helga, being at the office makes me feel like a whole new person, you know? In fact, I have decided to go back each & every day."

"Sounds great!"

"Oh, it is, honey, it's just wonderful. I'm telling you, sigh, I haven't been this happy in years."

"Then, I guess I'd better go do my homework and let you get back to it."

" gasp, Wait, Helga, why don't you just do your homework in here with me?"

"Okkay, I'll go get my stuff."

"Okkay!"

"Mom?"

"Helga! uh What on earth are you doing here?"

"I need you for a minute, I, I mean I need to talk to you."

"You 'need me for a minute, Mom'. Well, list-, I am sorry but th-, pant, this is just not a good time, I mean we're going to be back on in five minutes, and THEY need me so, whatever it is, it's just, going to have to wait until later, okkay? so, inhale, go on, bye-bye, go do your little homework or something..."

"Helga, sweetie?"

"Mom? What are YOU doing here?"

"But, what about your commercial? Don't they need you?"

"It's not important."

"I-, it's not?"

"No Helga, in fact, the only thing that IS important to me, honey, is you."

"Really?"

"Yes, Helga. I realize I've been so preoccupied at work that I haven't had time for YOU and so, I've decided to quit and come back home."

" sigh, Mom, you LOVE work, you, you love, being in charge and independent. You can't just give all that up just like that!"

"Oh, yes I can, little lady, and do you know why? Because I've got the rest of my life to go back to work, I mean, I can be in charge and independent any old time, but I've only got right now to be a better Mom, and that's what I am going to do. After all, you won't be eight forever, you know."

"I'm nine, Mom."

"You're nine?!? Well, see, well, that's exactly my point. So what do you say, dear? Can we go home and give it another shot?"

"…or she's just in a stupor."

"What kind of stupor?"

"The kind a person inflicts on themselves."

"I don't understand."

"She likes 'smoothies', Arnold. She makes them all the time; she's kind of emotionally attached to her blender."

"So she likes to make her own fruit drinks."

"Arnold, one of the ingredients is Tabasco sauce."

"Oh." pause "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. And it gets her in trouble sometimes."

"You mean she…?"

"While she's driving? It's happened…"

"Here's your Big Slurp, kid. Oh, and Miriam, I got you some of those little chocolate donuts."

"What, what's- what's happening?"

"You gotta eat something. Remember? You're starting your community service job down at the animal shelter today."

"Oh, B, I'm just, I, ah, exhale, I'm not good in the morning."

"Come on, the fresh air will do you good."

"What about that Thanksgiving? Things seemed all right."

"Yeah? Well, just, you just, listen here, mister! I want to speak to the captain! My little girl is missing and I want the whole police squad to go out, and look for her!!"

"I'm taking the Hummer, Miriam, and I'm not coming back till I've found Helga!"

"I finished the flyers. I only hope I'm not too late, whine!!!"

"Great, great, these are great. Get these plastered up on every telephone pole in the city!"

"What's going on?"

"Helga?!?!?"

"Ah! You're safe! It's a miracle!"

"We were, we were worried sick about you, girl!"

"You saw that?"

"Well, I kind of hung back for a minute. It looked like they were glad to see you."

"Yeah, well, they thought I was missing – I wonder when they noticed that – and you know my family, always overreacting."

"This time, though, it was a good thing, right? You knew that they cared about you."

"Well, the main thing is you're, safe and sound and, since it's Thanksgiving I, I guess this is as good a time as any, to say that, we're thankful for you bein' our daughter and, bein' around the house."

"Yes, we're very thankful, honey."

"You? Go to the meeting? That has got to be the stupidest idea I have ever heard!"

"The girl is right, Miriam, I mean, these guys are heavy hitters, they're sharks! They'd eat you alive."

"Now listen you two, I think that you ought to give me, a little more credit because, because I, I can do this. I can 'take' a meeting as good as the next guy."

"Forget it..."

"...then I guess Jim and Hank signed the papers and tripled their order of beepers. Wasn't that sweet of them?"

"Tripled their order?!? You didn't lower the price, did you?"

" snort, Course not, B. I just explained to them the benefit of buying in bulk."

"Wow, Mom, that's, that's incredible!"

"I know! And it's not even the best part!"

"It's not?"

"Uh-uh. The guys decided to stay in town an extra day to look at our selection of cell phones. I'm meeting them at the store tomorrow."

"That's great, Mom!"

"…but you already know about that. You did comment on her getting her license back once."

"Bye! Thanks for the ride!"

"Hey Helga, was that your mom?"

"As a matter of fact, Arnoldo, it was."

"When did she get her license back?"

"Well, technically she hasn't, but she has to get to work. See, she's filling in for my Dad at the beeper emporium and she wanted to give me a lift to school. Pretty boss, huh?"

"Wow, Helga, that's quite a spread! All the food groups are well represented."

"Yeah! Can you believe Miriam made it?"

"...I swear, Helga, being at the office makes me feel like a whole new person, you know? In fact, I have decided to go back each & every day."

"Sounds great!"

"Oh, it is, honey, it's just wonderful. I'm telling you, sigh, I haven't been this happy in years."

"Then, I guess I'd better go do my homework and let you get back to it."

" gasp, Wait, Helga, why don't you just do your homework in here with me?"

"Okkay, I'll go get my stuff."

"Okkay!"

"So, this is about your sister?"

"Doi! In case you haven't noticed, Arnoldo, Olga is making me miserable!"

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"Only about a thousand times! But she's too busy blabbing about how wonderful everything is to listen to me."

"Then you have to MAKE her listen to you."

"What, you mean like with a club or a baseball bat or something?"

"No, with just plain honest talk. Sit her down and tell her how you really really feel, even if it hurts. If Olga really cares about you like she says she does, she WILL listen to you."

"Dad, will you please stop watching that tape?"

"Aw, I'm just real proud of you, girl!"

"For what?"

"Well, for doing that scowl, and saying those mean things, and wearing that pink dress-"

"Bob!?! Hello?!? I've been scowling, and saying mean things, and wearing this dress, for years!"

"Well, uh, it's finally paying off."

"But, Dad, I'm sick of the whole thing! I HATE being the 'It' Girl! I've got no privacy, the phone never stops ringing, and everybody's dressing exactly like me."

"Aw, come on, don't be ridiculous; not EVERYBODY'S dressing like you."

"Look, everybody, I'm the 'It' Girl!"

car-alarm-inducing scream

"Oh, Arnold! I'm fine as long as you're near me. Your honest eyes, so full of concern, and lo-"

"Helga, what is wrong with you? That was heading straight for the cup! This could cost me the whole game!"

"I'm fine, BOB! Thanks for asking."

"THERAPY?!? -- Ahh, this never would have happened with Olga! -- Look, is this gonna cost me anything? -- Good. - Hold it right there, missy! Report to the Trophy Room, Pronto!!"

"We didn't HAVE therapy when I was a kid."

"That's obvious, Bob."

"I don't want you blabbing to some school shrink. We Patakis don't talk about things! Just sweep 'em under the rug."

"Some things are best swept under the rug, Helga."

"Whatever you do, don't blab anything or they'll give us all a one-way ticket to the funny farm. YA GOT IT?!"

"I got it, Dad."

"This never would have happened to Olga."

"Oh, no, I don't be-"

"...and my sister KEPT it! She said 'You'd just break it.' I was so mad, I snuck in her room and broke it while she was sleeping."

"Pft! You think that's annoying, try having a sister that's perfect!"

"Perfect? What do you mean, 'perfect'?"

"Well, she gets straight 'A's at Bennington College, all the boys want to go out with her, but SHE's gotta stay home and practice the Brandenberg Concerto for the concert she's giving at the orphanage this weekend. And Mom and Dad can't get enough of her; last time she was home, I was going out of my mind."

applause

"Good morning. Who wants some more of my freshly-made Sumatran drip coffee?"

"I'll have another cup if YOU made it."

"Mm-hmm! When'd you wake up, honey?"

"Oh, hours ago. I went down to the corner grocer's for breakfast ingredients. I'm making a lemon souffle."

laughter

" laughter Oh, Olga, it's great to have you in the kitchen. I'm gonna have to put another notch in my lucky belt!"

"You sure spoil us when you're home, honey."

"You sure do."

general laughter

"Mom? Did you pick up my winter coat from the cleaners?"

"What? I, uh, Helga I forgot, all the excitement, gasp , your sister being home from, Alaska, gasp , but don't worry, because the weatherman said that it should stay above freezing for most of the day."

"Speakin' of Alaska, Olga, tell us about it. Start all over again, from the very beginning."

"Oh, it was so wonderful, Daddy. The primeval forests, the streams chilled with salmon, ????????????, the towering peak of McKinley..."

"I'm going to school now!"

"Nobody in my house even knows I exist. They never listen to me! I think I'd go crazy if it wasn't for..."

"...You said that no one at home notices that you exist."

"And?"

"Well, I think that's very sad, Helga. Everyone needs to be noticed; otherwise, life would be terribly lonely."

"You got that right."

"Your mom doesn't notice you?"

"My mom?!? Huh! My mom wouldn't notice me if I was an alien pod person chanting Hare Krishna and spitting nickels! The other morning I was in the kitchen, late for school, as usual..."

"Mom?! Mi-ri-am!"

"She's sleeping on the couch."

"Again?"

"What, wha-? Oh, I was just... looking for my keys."

"They're hanging on the hook, Miriam."

"Oh, good."

"Mom, I'm late for school, and no one made my lunch."

"Oh I, I did, honey; I put it out for you. It's, it's, ... it's around here somewhere-- Oh, here it is!"

"Moist towelettes, an individual packet of crackers, and a can of shaving cream?"

" stammer How did that get in there, haha... uh-oh, uh-oh, that must mean the Cheeze Fizz is in B's medicine cabinet."

"GAAAHH! How am I supposed to run a beeper empire with my face smelling like hickory-smoked cheddar, Miriam?"

"Did you eventually get to school?"

"Yeah."

"What did you have for lunch?"

"I traded the can of shaving cream with Harold for a Mr. Fudgy Bar. He thought it was some kind of whipped topping, what an idiot."

"So, what about your dad? He doesn't notice you either?"

" snort Are you kidding? All he cares about is O-o-ol-ga 'cause she's so perfect. She's got him completely buffaloed, always has, as far back as I can remember..."

piano music

"That was wonderful, honey."

"You're a stinkin' genius-"

"Daddy, who's gonna take me to pweschool?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure... Co-, come on, play us another one, Olga."

"I know, how about 'The Minute Waltz' by Msr. Frederic Chopin?"

" Gasp Oh, I love that one."

"Yeah. You should hear her play Beeth-oven, Miriam."

"Can you believe our Olga? Concert pianist at fifteen, class valedictorian?"

"Plus she's won every spelling bee in the whole darn city, hah! Makes me proud to be a Pataki."

"Hey! Who's takin' me to pweschool?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, in a minute, Olga."

"No, I'm Helga, Dad, HEL-ga!"

"Whatever. Go play outside, will ya?"

"I'm going to pweschool."

"Whadda ya know, one minute flat, hah. You're amazing, Olga!"

"I'm going to pweschool!"

"So you'll live here, and starting tomorrow, Arnold's gonna work with me, down at the beeper emporium."

"But, I don't really want to be a beeper salesman."

"Salesman?! Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mr. Fancy Pants. Who says you get to be a SALES-man right off the bat?!?!"

"Well, I just thought that-"

"YOU start on the loading dock, just like I did, unloading heavy boxes from 7 to 5."

"Mr. Pataki, I never really planned on a future at the beeper emporium."

"Yeah, well, I guess you really lucked out when you married our Olga."

"It's, HEL-ga, Dad!"

"You know, if you wore that name tag I got you, you wouldn't keep having this problem."

"So, Helga, what are you gonna do with yourself all day?"

"Eh, I thought I'd lay around the house, watch tv and read comic books, and eat a lot of junk food."

"Uh-huh, that's, that sounds good, that sounds good." SPLAT

"Yep, good plan."

"How come I have to work and she doesn't?"

"'Cause I don't feel like it, and I got more important stuff to do."

"Like what?"

"None of your beeswax, footballhead!"

"Yeah, why should she have to work if you are? Come on, kid, use your noggin. You're never going to get off the loading dock with that attitude. --- More stuffing, Miriam."

Blurble

"…but the thing that tore it was all the spouting off he did on Parents Day."

"Well…"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten that."

"...will take home this trophy. You're all winners of course-"

"Whoever wins the trophy is best parent!"

applause, cheers

"No, no, you don't understand, this isn't that kind of competition. Everybody wins this weekend; the trophy is more of a symbol."

"Yeesh, what a tea cozy! I doubt if there's a handful of guts in this whole stinkin' crowd --- What are you looking at?"

"Where were you on that last race, Helga? We should have won by a mile! Better not let me down, girl."

"What do you mean, 'let YOU down'?"

"Listen, I am taking time off from my busy schedule, running a beeper empire, to show up here today; so I deserve to win that Best Parent trophy. Losing it is unacceptable!"

"Dad, this just in: WE'RE A-HEAD!!"

"That's exactly the kind of attitude that breeds losers! You got me?"

"Loud and clear, Bob. You're the man. We've gotta win YOU that trophy."

"There, that's the kind of attitude I wanta see."

"For cryin' out loud, Helga; whatsa matter with you? Keep your eye on the egg, not your opponent! We are NOT gonna let some ORPHAN boy and his ANCESTORS win this Parents Weekend thing!! Do you understand?"

"DAD!!!"

"What?"

"I wanted to pound him for that, or crawl into the nearest hole and pull it in after me; it was a tossup."

"I guess I should say I appreciate that."

"He had NO right to say that about you or your family; NOBODY should say that stuff like that, not about you.

"That trophy better not slip through my fingers, Helga, got that? Victory. WILL. Be. Mine."

"I'm gonna WIN that trophy or my name's not Big Bob Pataki, and nothing's gonna stop us!"

"Put some muscle in it, Miriam, come on!"

"I'm doing the best I can, B."

"Don't let that old bag and the orphan boy beat you! It's supposed to be Best Parent Day, not Screw Everything Up Day, Miriam!"

"I BEG YOUR PARDON?!?!"

"Just get the kid on my back."

WHUMP!!

TWEET!

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pataki, but dropping your daughter disqualifies you in this competition."

"What are you tellin' ME for? Miriam's the one who dropped her!"

"I'm, I'm sorry, Mr. Pataki, um, those are the rules, and, uh, I'm, I'm going to leave now."

"Dad, just forget about it, okkay?"

"Don't tell me to forget about it, little lady!"

"They're only concerned about their own pleasures, the both of them. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't have given up on them long ago."

"This is gonna be great, Miriam! A whole entire week o'hangin' out at the beach."

"Awww, B, why does it always have to be the beach?"

"'Cause the beach is the only place I get to parasail, jet ski, bodyboard, AND windsurf, poot "

"But, sigh, I just, you know, I hate it there so much, what with all the sun, and the sand, and all those loud, frolicking, happy people..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WHOOOOO…

Olga saw it coming immediately. She'd been keeping one eye on the screen, the other on her parents, the whole time. So before Bob's arm had even started back, Olga had a pretty good idea what was coming. She dove for it…

SMACK!!!

…and caught the remote, just before it went into the screen. A good thing, too; with the amount of force Bob had put into that throw, the Patakis would have been minus a tv set.

She wisely put the remote to good use, turning off the tv with her left hand before any more fuel could be put on the fire she knew was about to explode. Her right hand was still feeling the sting of that catch.

What broke the silence was unexpected. For the first time with Olga in the house, Miriam had a certain urge. She stood. The other eyes in the room were riveted on her as she stepped toward the kitchen.

"I need a smoothie."

Olga, surprised, tried to block the path. "Mummy…", but she was shoved aside by a strength Miriam had forgotten she'd possessed.

"Damn it, I said I need a smoothie!"

As Miriam stalked off, Olga caught herself and took a second to get her bearings; she didn't know her mother was that strong. Unfortunately, as she caught sight of Big Bob, she knew that a second was all she'd get.

His voice was eerily calm. Too calm. She sensed that she was in mortal danger.

"Would you mind explaining just what in the HELL you were thinking?!?!?" He'd stood as he spoke, and was now towering over her.

"Well…" She was momentarily flummoxed, which was devastating, for a minute or two.

"Do you realize that's the first time Miriam's EVER gone for a smoothie with you in the house?"

"Well…"

"I mean, showing us that?!? And even making that thing! And getting the girl to say all that crap about us, I mean-"

Then her spine finally kicked in. "Helga doesn't know anything about this, Daddy. She didn't know I was there."

"So she just spilled her guts to that orphan-"

"His name is Arnold, and you can't prove he's an orphan. Why would you be so cruel as to even mention it, much less around him?"

"You mind your tongue, young lady! Where is that girl, we're gonna have a-", he said as he started to stomp in the direction of the stairs, but by now Olga's spine had fully stiffened as she recalled her purpose. She stood in the way.

"Move it, Olga."

"No, Daddy. You're not going to punish Helga for any of this. She is the only one in this house who is innocent of wrongdoing, unlike us. For once, do not blame her or take out your anger on her!"

Bob tried to brush past her, roughly moving her out of the way, if need be; but she wasn't having any of it. She blocked his path, not once, nor twice. This is what she'd been training with Lila for, and she put she skills and strength acquired to good use.

Finally, momentarily defeated, Bob sunk back into his easy chair. His bullying instincts banked for the time being, he tried another tack.

"Why are you doing this, Olga? You're destroying this family, you do realize that, don't you?"

"If I am, what of it? It's nothing you haven't been doing since Helga was born!"

"What's she got to do with anything?"

"That's just the kind of attitude that's been ruining her; no wonder she had to see a psychiatrist with YOU for a father!"

"Now, look…"

"Always Big Bob the Beeper King! All Hail the Beeper King! HAH!! Bob the bully is more like it, and with your own daughter!"

"Olga…"

"Always putting her down, yelling at her, ignoring her, and STILL she looks up to you! She idolizes you, Daddy! Do you even know that she's a bully at school? Because she wants to be just like her Dad. What is your problem with her, anyway? Do you wish she was a boy, is that it? A male heir to run your 'beeper empire' after you're gone?

"I swear, to hear about what you've done around the house, to SEE with my own eyes what you did at that Parents Day thing! And Mummy couldn't handle all of this crap from you so she crawled into a bottle, excuse me, a blender. And ME, getting a fat head from all the attention and glory-"

"Well, what's wrong with you getting attention and glory?"

"What about attention for Helga? Have you cared about anything she's done? Like that go cart race she won? Or all those ball games?"

"Hello? Where were you today?"

"Fine, you were there today, but only because I practically dragged you there. Helga is a person, a human being with feelings. She needs to know you care about her more than once a year."

"Ah, what are you talking about? She's a Pataki, she'll be fine."

"That's right, Patakis are tough, Patakis don't cry – except me, apparently – Patakis don't talk about their feelings, Patakis keep it all inside, sweep it under the rug." She paused before delivering the coup de grace so far. "And Patakis drop dead of heart attacks in their '40's!"

No matter that it turned out to be gas and not a heart attack, that one hit home. Big Bob was on his feet again. "How DARE you?!?"

"How dare YOU? We've been ruining Helga's life, and it ultimately comes back to you. I have a mind to go to the psychiatrist myself, and I WILL spill my guts."

"Don't you dare!"

"And if it comes down to it I'll leave, and I'll see what I can do about taking Helga with me, and the law will be on my side! And-"

SMACK!!!

Although Olga had been unwillingly training for just such a contingency, that slap was a complete surprise. A surprise to both of them; for all of his yelling and bullying, Bob had never actually raised his hand to anyone before, not even Helga.

The look of rage on his face dissipated in an instant, followed by shock, then looks his face wasn't used to wearing: fear, remorse, contrition, panic, regret.

Her face went through a metamorphosis as well. It went from shock, to hysteria, to great sadness, to anger, and then, as it finally swung back around to face him, grim determination.

What she saw was impossible. There were tears in her father's eyes, not to mention stark terror, both at what he'd done, and what might follow. The offending hand he was now grasping with his other, clutching it as though ready to rip it off at a moment's notice.

But by now she couldn't be swayed even by that. 'Lady MacBeth' had taken over, and every word that came out – cold, slow, and deliberate – was polished and honed to do maximum damage to his psyche.

"Are you through, or would you like to hit me some more?"

She turned around and stalked off up the stairs, leaving no one to witness yet another impossibility: Big Bob the Beeper King hitting his knees, trying with all his might to control the flood welling up inside him. He almost succeeded.

In the kitchen, Miriam answered the call of her own injured psyche, treating the wounds with alcohol. The fruit. The blender. The 'special' ingredients. The tall glass that, in due time, held her nepenthe, the balm that would once again benumb her to that was going on around her.

As the glass reached her lips, she saw herself reflected in the drink, then in the glass as she lowered it. She set the glass down, and turned, finding herself facing the kitchen window. She stared at her own reflection, that bleak, unkempt, haggard, accusing face that used to hold so much promise.

Her grip, still on the glass, tightened. It could still be quite formidable when she really wanted it to be, when she wasn't zoned out.

The glass soon bore silent witness to the strength still present in the former state bull riding champion and Olympic class swimmer. It was squeezed, almost to the breaking point.

Then her arm cocked and fired the glass, sidearm, toward the miserable image of herself in the window. It splattered, but she was shaking so much at the time that neither glass shattered. It was close, though.

She too fell to her knees, forearms hugging the counter for dear life, crying into the sink.

By now Bob had somehow found his way to his easy chair, but it wasn't easy. He was almost comatose. Someone had left a remote in the seat, and as he sat on it he'd accidentally turned on the tv. He wasn't paying attention, though.

A door slammed shut upstairs. A minute later Olga came stomping down the stairs, a bag in her hand. She stopped in between the living room and the dining room, between where her parents were.

"If anyone cares, I'll be at the YWAA." She announced, before leaving.

Whether anyone even noticed is an open question.

Upstairs in her room, Helga had finally dozed off. The Homicide marathon on Court TV was finally winding down with the movie finale. If anyone had been able to hear, they would have heard Bayliss yelling at his former partner Pembleton.

"Did I take a bullet for you?!?"

"DID I TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU?!?!?"

I realize that this is a bit of a downer to end on, especially on Christmas. And y'all know that more of the same is coming. Let not y'all's hearts be troubled, though; I'm writing this and I'm going to make sure that the ending is happy. It's always darkest just before the dawn, and all that.

As I have said – repetitively – this has been the most difficult piece of writing I have ever done. I see no reason why anything in the future should be anywhere near this difficult, which means that it's not going to take me 1 to 2 years per chapter after this; far from it. I'm going to try to keep it to every one or two months instead. One of my New Years resolutions will be to work on this and other fics at least once a day every day. We'll see if I keep it, but I am optimistic.

Until the next chapter in the Brainy Saga – Memento Miriam – let me leave y'all with these words, originally sung by Gold City.

Merry Christmas to all who may dwell here

Merry Christmas, if even just one

May the joys of the season surround you

Merry Christmas, with love


	24. Memento Miriam

How does this happen? How does something in which I'm so interested become so far down on my list of priorities that it comes to the point that I only contribute to it about a chapter a year? I wish I knew. I wish that I could assure y'all that it won't happen again, but as I look on my recent history and the promises that I've made in recent chapters, I see how hollow any such promises would be.  
I could tell you a tale of increased responsibility, of an increased workload, of hospitalizations of most of my family from time to time, all of which would be true; but we know that if this had been as important to me as we want it to be, that y'all would have heard of me before now. This past Sunday, after midnight, I had to go with Mom to the hospital. I took a notebook with me, and while there I sketched out some ideas, from which I got this recent burst of creativity that enabled me to finish this. For such results, maybe I should accompany family to the hospital more often, but I wouldn't wish such on myself or any of mine.  
Anyway, for what it's worth, for anyone who's still waiting on me; here is my latest chapter.

What do we know of Miriam Pataki? Well, in Road Trip we found out that she's from South Dakota, that her mother is there, and that she was state bull-riding champion when she was a girl. In Olga Gets Engaged we found out that she was an Olympic-class swimmer. In Beeper Queen we found out that when she gets an opportunity she can make a down payment on ruling the world. From these meager threads, I've tried to spin a skein that would be my attempt at her life story. From the success I've had with Brainy's back story, I went in with a sizable quantity of hope; judge for y'allselves if I had any success.

Now, as for the reviews:  
purplepincushion, one of the more recent reviewers of this story, and I'm finding one of my favorites (don't let it go to your head, though). You got what I was aiming for. I was trying for just such an effect in the movie, that montage I made such noise about. And I was trying to get people to see some possibility in Olga, like there had been in Lila. Who knows, there might even be hope for Big Bob. We'll see. I've been feeling much better (thank you, Zicam :plug: ), and thank you.  
Paradox, you also got what I was going for. The balloon being punctured, Helga being oblivious, etc. I don't see Olga developing multiple personality from this; rather, I see it as a catharsis, I think that's the word. Now that she can finally face what's been going on in the family, she can come to terms with herself. Lila has been working with her toward that end as well, and with the right psychiatric help (and you know that Lila can pass on recommendations from Brainy, who passes them on from Dr. Bliss), I see some good things in her mental future, as well as some not so good, unfortunately. We'll see.  
World, I appreciate your patience. I did try to get this up in one to two months, I really did. Maybe I can do better in the future. That last chapter was intense, as is this one, as might be the next one or two. We'll see. (I seem to be saying that a lot, don't I?)  
Sleather, always glad to hear from you. Yeah, it might seem like all the king's horses & all the king's men can't put this family together again. That said, like I said before, I'm the resident cockeyed optimist. I'm going to try to find a way to salvage The Patakis. I don't see that it would be good for Olga to take Helga, take her away from Arnold. Like I said, I do have hope for Big Bob. I can only redouble my efforts to find out if there's anything redeemable about him. And yes, Brainy seems to be doing his own Machiavellian scheming, doesn't he? He considers it means to an end, and he knows about the end not justifying the means. This is what he thinks can be done to save the family, and ultimately to save Helga.  
Taladon, always glad to see another reviewer. I am continuing; I want this family rebuilt too.  
Alberto, gracias. Think nothing of your procrastination in posting your review; I know I'm in no position to hold such against anyone. You see the possibility in what I'm trying to do here. The issues you raise will be addressed, eventually. And there will be quite a few more chapters in store.  
HY, of all the reviewers, I look forward to your reviews the most. You know why. I'm glad to hear about the new baby, and the other new developments in your life; I hope they're for the best. (I Wish I Could Go Back to College from Avenue Q seems apropos here, and I've never even heard it) CB being God, Brainy being embarrassed, Narnia (Must. See. That. Movie!), The Scottish Play, all went in with hopes for reactions like yours. I wish I or someone like me had been there to have been in your corner; I don't know what I would or could have done, but, I just dunno. Anyway, I went into this with the highest of hopes, and I continue those hopes. As to that ending? What can I say, you got it, HY, you got it.  
Briana (hope I spelled that right), I must get to reading your stories, and to continuing mine. Shock therapy, yes, that's what I was going for; I'll try to get more into this in the next chapter. And I dunno about rewriting. I want to, but I don't really know how it'll come out on ff.n; this past chapter didn't turn out anything like I'd planned, with the asterisks and boldness and such removed.  
Alberto mumero dos, I am honored that you review twice, although I'm also ashamed that enough time passes for two reviews. I will continue this all the way through to the end. I do try to understand Brainy. He's a quiet person, but one full of hidden things, kind of like me. (but I flatter myself) Recently CB himself responded to another post of mine, this one on toonzone, and I couldn't have been more jazzed.  
ldypebsaby, here's the next chapter. I'm always glad to see someone new among the reviewers.  
Alberto again, you do me much honor in wanting to nominate this thing of mine for a ff award. I'm overwhelmed by the positive response this has gotten. It was nominated for one of Miss Matched's awards, iirc. You can expect an e-mail from me about that info on Brainy; I do want to get this right.  
blueraven, as you read this I have already e-mailed y'all. I don't want to wait for a significant amount of time either. And you're right about the video scene, and I don't know what to do about that.  
LQ, the latest new review (hey, that rhymes!). Little ol' me got you hooked on fanfic? Aww, shucks & wazoo, in the words of Mork from Ork.

Hey Arnold! and all Hey Arnold! characters and concepts are created by and copyright Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.  
Yankton State University is copyright the foundation dedicated to perpetuating its memory.  
The Feminine Mystique, obliquely referenced here, is copyright Betty Friedan and her publisher.  
The US Olympic team is copyright the US Olympic Committee.  
Jim Ryun, Bob Seagren, the late Steve Prefontaine, Mark Spitz, the late Howard Cosell, Jim McKay, Olga Korbut, Lyle Alzado, John Matuzsak and ibn Saud are copyright themselves.  
The American Broadcasting Company is copyright the Walt Disney Corporation.  
The Olympics is copyright the International Olympic Committee.  
CNN is a unit of AOL-Time Warner.  
The Oakland / Los Angeles Raiders are owned by Al Davis.

So it had come to this.  
She had failed. As a mother, as a wife, as a woman, she had completely and utterly failed.

How she got here - the bedroom - was a matter of no great certainty; her memory of between here and the kitchen was a bit fogged, and for once it didn't have anything to do with her precious 'smoothies'. Regardless, she was here, on her knees, digging around in that trunk full of memories that she and her family had once called a hope chest.  
Hope, what a laugh. And if she wasn't feeling so miserable, she would laugh at the very thought.  
As her memories churned in her mind - much the same way that she was stirring the mementoes she was finding again - one thought, one question, rose to the surface of her consciousness.  
How did it happen?

Soon she had almost emptied the chest, chronologically arranging the paraphernalia, for that was how it went in; almost like a time capsule of her life thus far. She had arranged them on the bed; it was a good bet that she wasn't going to get any sleep that night anyway, and Bob had probably fallen asleep in his big chair in the living room, again. That is, if he could sleep after what they had just been through. For him being affected by such as the events of the evening was a possibility; she more than anyone knew that he wasn't really a monster, just someone with lots of rough edges.

As her hands touched bottom, her thoughts turned to what she found there: a family portrait. This was of the family she was born into, when she was Miriam O'Ryan.

Her father, Big John O'Ryan. The most powerful man she had ever known, in every way. He was a rancher in South Dakota, and owned a spread that was measured, not in acres, but in square miles. One of the last of the classic big Western barons, he had been her whole world as far back as she could remember.

Her mother, Veronica. She had always been a shy, quiet, retiring sort; and she still was, living on her own in a little place in a corner of the old ranch. It occurred to Miriam that it had been over a month since she had last called her mother. The thought came to her, not with the usual self-imprecation to remedy that in the near future; just a thought, an idle notice of a state of things that just happened to be.

A picture of her first horse, Chestnut. She remembered that at the time some of the hands had laughed at that name; it had taken her years to find out why. But she didn't really need the picture; a girl never forgot her first horse, right? The ones who were lucky enough to have a horse.  
Her Daddy had been against it; he didn't think she could handle riding a horse. Right, her being his daughter. Her mother didn't like the idea either, but you convince one parent and the other will give in too, right?  
"Daddy, I really think, I can do this; I can ride as well as the next girl." And she did, oh, did she ever!

Proof of that was also here, in the collection of cold metal she ran her fingers through. Those buckles, each one signifying that she'd won, that she was the best, eventually the best in all of South Dakota. She knew she could have done even better, on the national level, if things had happened otherwise. After awhile, she'd had more buckles than belts, and had to switch them out.

That yellow sheet of paper - it had been white - where she'd kept a list of the greatest challenges in that ring, the fiercest bulls she'd ridden, and broken.  
Atomic Wedge. Almost Legal. License Revoked. Mixed-Up Nuts. Better You Than. Bull-Der (that one was owned by the McGintys; they liked being cute with their names). Cherries Jubilee. And those foot-bulls, like Nitschke and Yankton.  
Yankton. How significant that name was to be in her future.

Mementoes of her career change, if you will; in which she switched sports from bullriding to swimming. Those medals brought back a welter of memories, and the emotions associated with them.  
At first the water was therapeutic, or that's what she had gone in believing - a remedy for her sore muscles from the times she'd been thrown, and even the times she hadn't. But it became something more, as she discovered how at-home she was in the water. As it turned out, she was good, damned good. And it wasn't just her saying so, not if those medals were any indication. She found out that she could swim, and so she swam, and swam, and swam.  
All through high school, there was no competition. No meet that she entered had a chance of denying her the gold. Mir-maid, she was starting to be known as, and the college scouts were out in full force. There were at least a dozen of them at every meet she participated in, and everyone knew why. Why she'd chosen piddling old Yankton State she didn't know - no, that wasn't true; she did know. It was because of... HIM.

That picture, the first one, the first time she'd seen him. That man, the man who would become so much of her life. He would turn out to be her weakness, her addiction, that which was dominant. How strange it seemed now, how long ago that life was, almost like another lifetime ago...

The late '60's was a turbulent time, but not here, not on the O'Ryan ranch. Here it might as well have been the 1890's as the 1960's. Oh, Daddy didn't try to keep her in her place; there just wasn't much opportunity to find out what was going on, much less to get caught up in it. And there wasn't really much effort into putting down someone who could have her way with a 3-ton force of nature like she could. Mummy? She was the compliant sort anyway, so forget that.

But he. He was from the outside. He was an older man, some college boy from Yankton who had landed a summer job on the ranch. She'd heard that he was from New York, from Brooklyn even. Daddy had hired this big city boy personally. He was a tenderfoot through & through, no doubt about that, but there was no denying that he wanted to succeed, to please Daddy, which he did. It was obvious that he thought the world of Daddy, and vice versa.

Was that why she'd fallen for him, because of the mutual admiration society between him & Daddy? Was it because he kept trying to make himself into a carbon copy of Big John (well, just look at the name)? A girl wants a boy who will be a man just like her daddy, right?

Then there was that damned stubborn streak. While it had long since become part & parcel of Bob the Bully which steamrolled everything in his path, at the time she had found it endearing. Especially when she was seeing it from a standing position, above his hospital bed.  
That's right, his stubborn streak put him there. He'd heard about her bull-riding feats, and of course he figured he could anything a woman could do, so of course he got on a bull, and of course that bull proceeded to stomp a mudhole in him.  
She'd gotten not a little schadenfreude, visiting him in the hospital. Oh, he was in traction, and her heart had gone out to him. That said, her inner feminist - she had just recently started to read that Friedan book, almost a half decade late - just had to pick at him a bit, point out that it took a girl to save him, speculate about his future with the football team. That got a panic reaction, as the coach couldn't have been happy with one of his defensive stars trying to ride a bull. What was his name again? Eh, it wasn't important.  
No, what was important was that big lummox, how he was getting to her. He was getting under her skin. She was letting him get close to her, and closer, and closer.

Late summer, 1971. She was at the top of her world. Her sophomore year at Yankton was coming up, and she had just received her invitation to the biggest event yet, the validation that she was one of the best: the US Olympic Swim Trials. It was just a formality, and then the next year, she would be representing her country in Munich.  
So, the man in her life had talked her into a little celebration, just the two of them. It had snuck up on her that there was a man in her life, that she had allowed this lout to mean that much to her. It wasn't very feminist, especially with a troglodyte like him. That saw about the fish and the bicycle kept running through her head, but he had pointed out that the bicycle had equal need of the fish, and that by that logic he didn't need her either, and he definitely needed her. So she's let him get close to her, too close. Which had ultimately brought them to this picnic, which had turned into something else.

She had breezed through the swim trials a few months later, of course. At her physical afterward, though, something had been discovered. Or should it be said, someone.  
She wouldn't be going to Munich. At the time of the discovery, it had been suggested that she could get it taken care of, quietly. But she couldn't. No matter how discreet it would have been, it would eventually have gotten back to her strongly religious family. And what about him; he had a similar upbringing, when his parents had been around. He had confided in her that he had been orphaned while still in his teens, that when the time came that he was a father, he would stay alive and be there for his children, no matter what. And something in her told her it wasn't right. So she wouldn't be going to Munich, which as it turned out might have been for the best.

Munich. It was a place she had been looking forward to seeing up-close, but she was having to content herself with seeing it on tv, with him by her side, usually. He was supposed to be at training camp, but his football career had come to naught when his ankles gave out, so he was with her. And it was a good thing, because she would need someone to lean on.  
The whole Olympic experience turned out to be one international scandal after another. It was 1972. The world it seemed hated America, or so B. said; and there was plenty of evidence as he would point out one instance after another of what he called the Great International Screw Job. Ryun, screwed. Seagren, screwed. Prefontaine, screwed. And don't get him started on that basketball final. Spitz was not to be denied, but had it not been for him, the US might as well have not even sent a team, according to B.  
But the worst was yet to come. It would happen, away from the tracks and the fields, in the Olympic Village.

Had she made the trip, she had planned to meet with some of these same people. An interest had been awakened in her, an interest in her mother's Jewish heritage, an heritage which one had but to look at her name to see its continued would-be legacy in her. Toward the end of exploring same, she had written to some of the Israeli team, and they had written back. Oh, she'd had no intention of converting, but it would have been interesting to find out where that particular part of her had come from.  
So maybe she would have been allowed to visit that team had she gone. Maybe she would have been there when it all went down. Or maybe some of them would have visited her, and thus been spared. No one would ever know.  
It had started so suddenly, taking the world by surprise. As things unfolded, it seemed that America, maybe the world, had come to a stop and was glued to their tv sets. She could still remember that nasal whine of Howard Cosell eloquently expressing the outrage of millions, and millions. Who were these people? How dared they violate the international sanctity of these games? Didn't they know that this was the Olympics, that it was off-limits? How could anyone?  
She could remember looking back at B, who was holding her in his strong arms, and seeing the same welter of emotions on his face that was raging within every fiber of her being all at once: shock, disbelief, rage, helplessness. A sick, heavy feeling was in the pit of her stomach and radiated coldly through her frame; one she had never felt before and hoped to God never to feel ever again. It was a wonder she hadn't miscarried.  
Then there was the comforting voice of Jim McKay, as he picked up the baton from Cosell as it were, and began his shift, the shift that seemed to go on forever. He stayed on the screen, covering the event that would ultimately give birth to CNN and every other news & talk tv channel (for better or worse), until she heard those infamous words, in McKay's plaintive bleat:  
"They're all gone."  
She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't watch, couldn't listen. She went into hysterics. Within an hour she was at the hospital, giving birth to Olga, named at her insistence after that gymnast she had been watching just days before. She was determined, amid all the ugliness, to have some memorial of the beauty that the Games were supposed to have been.  
That was all that could be salvaged. That and other spontaneous births amid similar circumstances was probably the best legacy that these Games left, and they would have happened anyway in due course.

What happened in the years after that, though she had the appropriate documentation, was still a blur to her. The shotgun wedding. How Bob had been set up in business by a relative, something to do with electronics. How she'd devoted herself to raising Olga. Bob's 'alien incident' up in North Dakota in the late '70's, and how his refusal to keep quiet about it had gotten them laughed out of the Badlands; fortunately her Daddy wasn't around to see it. Oh yeah, that had happened too, back in the mid '70's.  
Their move to the Seattle area. Olga discovering her potential, being an entire Gifted & Talented program all by herself. That first spelling bee, then all that followed. Perfect attendance, no grades below an A since third grade, awards, certificates, plaques, trophies; all the accolades, doing her mother proud.  
And her father too; Bob had dared to dream for himself. They had started the Super Bowl about the time he'd started college; he'd had hopes about football glory. But those had gone with his ankles; damn those steroids. She knew he was taking them at Yankton, him and that Alzado kid. Maybe it was for the best that Bob had never gotten the chance that he and that Matuzsak kid from Tampa had gotten. He would have been a member of the Raiders, holding his own with the worst of them. And at what cost. No, it was better that he could glory in his daughter's accomplishments than his own, or so it seemed. And all along, getting bigger, and louder, and more bullying. And she unable to cope, retreating into those 'smoothies'; when had she discovered 'that frozen concoction that helps her hang on', anyway?  
Her chasing a foolish dream to be in the Olympics after all, a dream shot down with the Moscow boycott. And then, eight years later, another go-round of the same dream. Of course that came to a halt when they'd found out about Helga.

Was she resentful? Was that why she had never really concentrated on Helga like she had on Olga? Or was it because she had wanted Helga to grow up without all the fuss, strong and independent? And apparently it had worked; Helga was her own person, not really needing anything. She could take care of herself, and her personality - if that's what you wanted to call it - didn't have the the eggshell fragility and brittleness of Olga's. Patakis don't cry, that's what B had always said, but Olga did. But not Helga; she was strong.  
But now Olga was the one being strong, telling them how they'd destroyed Helga's life. And she knew that it was all true, and she was so sorry. She'd never meant for anything like this to happen.

Whose fault was it? Herself, for letting herself get seduced? Bob for seducing her? The team at college for introducing him to steroids? Those mobsters who had killed his father, back in Brooklyn?  
Or maybe it had been Munich; neither of them had been the same after that. She had been wrecked, and he had been, well, even now she wasn't really sure. Damn those terrorists, and with one exception, the Israelis had made sure that every one of them were. Although they just wanted their ancestral home, same as the Jews, if it was really their ancestral home and those rumors she'd heard about them being refugees driven out of Jordan were just that: rumors. Maybe the Jews should have taken that advice from Ibn Saud and taken a state or two out of Germany for their homeland; it was the Germans who had tried to exterminate them from the face of the earth, right?  
But all the geopolitical gymnastics going on in her mind didn't really matter now. None of it changed the facts which were right there in front of her, the ones which now demanded her full attention: that her family, all that she had left, was about to implode. And she couldn't let that happen. She still loved Bob and didn't want to abandon him, but something had to happen, to save the family.  
Something had to be done.

And that's the story as it currently stands. As you're reading this, though, I'm working on the next chapter. It has the title: "Jack Greene, Meet Tim Bayliss". Hopefully, the reason for that title will be obvious by the time you're finished reading it. Until then, I'm Nftnat. On e-mail, I'm And on IM, I'm Nftnat. Cya around, and Merry Christmas.


End file.
